


Carving Out A New Path

by rhps_brad_fan



Category: Nip/Tuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Past Rape/Non-con, Prison, Violence, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-05-16 09:52:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 14
Words: 24,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14809034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhps_brad_fan/pseuds/rhps_brad_fan
Summary: Christian is convicted of the Carver's crimes. AU set after the events of S3E5.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fic idea I hadn't really seen explored. Set after the events of S3E5, as if Kit had never been attacked by the Carver. Fair warning: Updates may be incredibly sporadic, but I'm hopeful I'll finish this one.

"Beauty is a curse on the world." 

The words rang in his ears as the blade glistened in the moonlight. He couldn't move. Panic filled his mind as he looked up at his masked attacker, unable to do anything to stop what was to come next.

Just as the blade slashed his skin, Christian awoke in a cold sweat. Usually the nightmares went further than that, but not today. He blinked back the tears from his eyes, trying to catch his breath and adapt to his surroundings.

"Troy, you awake? Jesus, you were making noise again. You know if the others catch wind of it, you're gonna get the shit beaten out of you. Again." 

It took Christian a moment to realize where he was and who was talking to him.

"Sorry," He apologized, running his hand over his face. His fingers ran over the crooked bump in his once flawless nose and he knew he couldn't afford to piss off anyone else. His heartrate was leveling out again as reality set in, but it wasn't much comfort considering how grim his reality was these days. 

"You really oughta be more careful," The other man warned him. "I think you're everybody's favorite punching bag." 

"Except for you, Perez?" Christian asked with a little smirk.

"I put up with you because you keep to yourself and you don't touch my shit... plus, it's nice to have a Doc around. Those assholes treat us like we're less than human, you know?" 

"Yeah," Christian agreed, nodding absentmindedly. Not too long ago, he would have sided with 'those assholes'. He got out of the cramped bunk and stretched a little. The cell's mattress was hell on his back, but he should have been used to it by now. 

"Hey, remember today's visiting day. You gonna look good for your girl?" Perez asked with a letcherous look in his eye. 

"She isn't my girl anymore. I don't even know why she still shows up." 

Everyone else had abandoned him, but like clockwork, Kimber never missed a visit, even after he'd tried his best to push her away. Her career was still relatively unscathed from the Carver controversy, or so Christian was told by not only Kimber herself, but some of the other inmates at the Miami-Dade Correctional Institution. It also happened to bring him a bevvy of unwanted attention when the other inmates took notice of just who was coming to visit him. Still, it wasn't like he had anyone else anymore. 

Soon after the Carver allegations had come out and the evidence piled against him, Sean and Julia had started to distance themselves from their oldest friend. It had come as a terrible blow to him, but as much as Christian wanted to, he couldn't exactly fault them for it, given the situation. Sean had a family to support and a practice to salvage. Christian had always said Sean was the talent of their partnership and he knew he'd continue that as the practice inevitably shifted to McNamera/Costa. Christian's share of the business had been bought out fairly cheaply since he'd needed the money for his legal defense, but even with selling his part of the business to Quentin and selling off practically everything he owned, the money still dried up quickly. He certainly didn't have enough on his own to make any sort of appeal. That was another reason Kimber still visited him. The dolls in her likeness were still a hit in the adult industry and she had been putting aside a generous portion of her profits to go towards Christian's legal fees. 

"Still Troy, the caliber of girl like that... you gotta look your best, you know? At least as much as we can in this shithouse," Perez advised as Christian was moving towards the cell's toilet to take a piss.

Christian glanced over to catch sight of his reflection in the mirror. It wasn't actually made of glass - that would be far too dangerous for the inmates, many of whom were in there for crimes as bad or far worse than what Christian was accused of. As such, the image was a little warped, but then again, what wasn't in prison? 

He studied himself for a moment. His dark hair had grown out a bit and without product ended up curling. Lack of sun and tanning beds had caused his usually tan skin to pale, though that was the least of his worries. His nose had been broken pretty soon after he'd gotten there and despite his best efforts, nothing short of another rhinoplasty would be able to fix it to what it once was. The bags under his eyes from the lack of sound sleep were something he'd become so accustomed to seeing that he barely noticed them anymore. The beard he'd grown shortly after getting there, mostly to try to help hide his features, was going a little gray in patches. 

The other inmates liked to rough him up and had taken to calling him "pretty boy" almost immediately, but it hadn't stopped there. Things would have continued and escalated further had it not been for Perez's protection. Christian still got caught in some fights, but Perez ensured he hadn't become anyone's regular bitch yet and for that he was eternally grateful. There had been a couple of incidents initially, but when Christian returned to their cell with a limp and a haunted look in his eyes, his cellmate had taken pity on him. It hadn't happened again, especially not after Christian had offered medical care and advice to him in exchange.

"I look fine," He said, averting his gaze from his reflection. He tried not to focus too much on it these days. He finished up and washed his hands.

"Whatever you say, Troy," Perez said to him, letting it be for now. 

Christian went back over and sat on his bed, grabbing a book he'd gotten from the prison library. It was the best way -- one of the only ways -- to kill time. The guards dropped off breakfast soon enough and Christian forced himself to eat enough to get in some calories. Breakfast, he had found, was the most palatable meal of the day. 

"Troy," One of the guards said, tapping on the bars to get his attention. "Visitation time. You know the drill." 

Christian set his book aside and got up, putting his hands out in front of him as the guard opened the door, with another waiting just outside. The guard came in and cuffed Christian at the wrists and again at the waist and the ankles. It made for an uncomfortable shuffle to the visitation room, but it always meant he'd get to see Kimber for a little while, making it more than worth the effort. 

When he arrived at his booth to pick up the phone, it wasn't Kimber's pretty, eager face greeting him as usual. Sean instead sat in her place, looking far more uncomfortable than Kimber ever had there. 

Christian sat down across from him and picked up the telephone. 

"Hello buddyboy," Christian greeted him. "It's been six months. Did you forget my new address?" 

"Jesus, Christian..." Sean got a good look at him and felt the knot in his stomach tighten. His friend looked as terrible as Sean felt. The trial had taken nearly a year and it had been another half a year since Christian had been convicted and Sean had seen him last. It was the longest the pair had gone without seeing each other since they'd first met. "I know. I know you must be angry-"

"You don't know shit, Sean. What the hell is this? And where's Kimber? You don't get to come in here after this long and take up the only time I get to visit with your guilt and bullshit apologies," Christian seethed at him. 

Sean looked down at that. It made what he had to tell him all the more difficult. 

"Kimber's not coming, Christian."

"No shit, Sean. You're here. They won't allow you both to visit me unless you're sharing the time." 

"It's not... That's not what I mean." Sean sighed, looking more pained than he usually did. "There was another Carver attack. Kimber was taken and she was tortured. He let her go, but not after keeping her for a week. The police are investigating it as a copycat attack, but--"

"How is she?" Christian asked urgently, cutting him off. 

"He really did a number on her. He reversed every procedure Kimber's ever had done. I've been trying to convince her to let me do the reconstruction, but she's worried about retaliation and she's starting to espouse some of his nonsense about beauty being a curse on the world," Sean admitted to him.

"Christ..." Christian said softly, trying to process all of it. His mind filled with sickening images of what the Carver might have done to Kimber and tears sprang to his eyes.

"I'm sorry... for everything. I'm already trying to get them to re-open the case," Sean told him sincerely. 

"And how many more lives does this son of a bitch have to ruin before they do?" Christian asked desperately. "Kimber was targeted because of me. It's all my fault. He must have found out that she's been helping to pay for my lawyer." 

"She's not the only one," Sean said to his friend. 

Christian didn't know what to say about that. He'd been under the impression Sean had given up on him completely.

"Does Julia know?" He finally asked and Sean shook his head. 

"Not yet. I intend to tell her when we bring you home."

"You're going to be waiting an awful long time for that at the rate I'm going, buddyboy." 

"The Carver's attack on Kimber was the first in a long time, but it was also one of the worst. I think he's frustrated that you're getting all of his spotlight. That his warped message is getting lost," Sean reasoned. "It's going to get worse before it gets better, but... I think he's already starting to slip up. Sooner or later, he will." 

"Sooner or later doesn't help me now, Sean. It doesn't help Kimber. It doesn't get me out of this goddamn shithole." Christian saw the look one of the guards was giving him and he lowered his voice, lest they decide to end his visitation early and drag him back off to his cell. "I just don't know how long I can make it in here," He said to him. "Merrill is in here."

"Bobolit? You've ran into him?" Sean asked, concerned about that. 

"Not yet. I've been avoiding him, but I don't know how long it's going to be until he takes a shiv to my face to try to rip it off and use it as his own," Christian sighed and rubbed his forehead, remembering when Merrill had tried to do just that - only with a scalpel. 

"It looks like somebody's already gotten in a few lucky hits," Sean commented, seeing how his nose was crooked.

Christian rolled his eyes. "And then some," He informed, but left it at that. "If you really give a shit now, Sean... if you really believe me, get me out of here."

"I promise you, I'm working on it," Sean told his friend, seeing the desperation in Christian's eyes. "You've not had any run-ins with Gallardo have you?" He asked as quietly as he could. 

"No, thankfully. I know he's in here too, but maybe he doesn't know I'm here," He said, trying to be a little optimistic about the situation. If he was being honest with himself though, he did live in fear that Escobar Gallardo would retaliate for the stunt he and Sean had pulled to get him arrested.

Sean was a little relieved to hear that. "Let's hope," He said. He glanced at the guard behind Christian, realizing their time was almost up. "I'll do what I can to get your case re-opened and I'll try to take care of Kimber. I'll be here for your next visit," He promised him. 

"Thanks, Sean," Christian told him, just as the guard tapped him on the shoulder to wrap it up. He hung up the phone and Sean watched as his friend was shuffled away in shackles back to his cell. That knot in his stomach tightened again. He had to help Christian.


	2. Chapter 2

It had been another week before Christian heard anything from his lawyer, who had gotten the ball rolling on reopening his case. The Carver had struck again after Kimber and the attacks seemed to be escalating. The police were looking into other suspects. With a renewed sense of hope, Christian had let his guard down a little. It was during his yard time that he had his first run-in with Merrill.

"Avoiding me, Christian?" Merrill asked, finally cornering him. "You know, I could hardly believe it when word got around that you were the Carver." 

"I'm not the Carver, Merrill. I was framed and railroaded by some goddamn bitch because I kicked her out of my bed." Christian was still convinced that Detective Kit McGraw had everything to do with his condom ending up at that crime scene. 

"Now see, that's more like it. I knew you couldn't do all those things they said you did. Though then again, who thought I'd do everything I did either..." Merrill trailed off. 

Christian was understandably uncomfortable talking with Bobolit. "Look, I'd like to get a few more laps in out here before it's time to go in, so--" 

"Not so fast," Bobolit said, putting a hand out to stop him. "There's someone here that wants to see you and I can't come back empty handed. Now, you can either come with me of your own volition or we can do this the hard way." 

"Who are you mixed up with that wants to see me, Merrill?" Christian asked, more than a little concerned for his own safety. He cautiously began to walk with Merrill, darting his eyes around the yard as he went to look out for potential threats. 

"We have a mutual friend now, Christian -- Escobar Gallardo. Well, we're not exactly friends, but he gives me protection here." The two were headed towards a partially blocked off area with some large convicts standing guard. Christian felt panic rise within him. He'd been dreading the day he'd have a face to face with Escobar Gallardo again. He looked for a way out, but he knew running now would surely get him killed. "Don't even think about it," Merrill warned him. 

The convicts parted for them to enter the area that was a prime spot in the yard. It was partially shaded and blocked by a few trees. Gallardo was seated, flanked on either side by more of his gang. He smiled as Christian and Merrill approached. 

"Doctor Troy," He greeted him. "Who would have thought we'd meet again like this, huh?" He asked with a smile as one of the larger men pushed Christian to sit down on an upside down bucket that was meant to serve as a makeshift chair. 

"What do you want, Gallardo? There's nothing I can give you in here." 

"That's not exactly true, is it?" Escobar told him with a smirk, watching as Christian visibly paled at the suggestion. "Not to worry, Dr. Troy. I've got Merrill here for that, but know that if I wanted you, I could have you. No, I've got a lot of power in here and on the outside, but I'm always looking to expand. Having the Carver himself--"

"I'm not the goddamn Carver," Christian interrupted. "I was framed." 

Escobar smiled at that. "I never thought you were. Neither you or your partner have the balls." 

"Is there a point to all of this?" Christian asked him. 

Escobar smiled at him and walked over. "The point is, you do what I say when I say. You work for me now, Dr. Troy and everybody's going to know it." He moved closer to him and gripped his face in one hand. "Looks like somebody already had a run at that face of yours. It'd be a shame if somebody finished the job. I'm sure my friend Merrill here might have a few surgeries he could do," He let go of his face and stepped back, looking at him. "You know I've followed that Carver story... what you and Sean did for the victims," He mentioned. "How the two of you became victims yourselves. You know, it is curious how you're the only one so far not to have their face messed up. Wonder why that is..." 

"I don't know," Christian admitted quietly. He knew he didn't have much of a choice but to comply with whatever Escobar wanted him to do. "What is it that you want me to do?" 

"Ah ah ah. I'll let you know when I need your expertise, Dr. Troy," He said to him. "Until then, stay close," He advised him. "And remember I've got eyes and ears all over this place. You try to cross me again and it'll cost you," He motioned for him to get up. "By the way, say hi to Perez for me. He's one of my best guys." 

A chill ran through Christian despite the warm air. His cellmate worked for Escobar Gallardo. He didn't know who he could trust anymore. He got up and made his way away from the group. His stomach was in knots and he felt sick. He knew that if Gallardo wanted him dead, he would be already, but it wasn't much of a comfort.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's nothing really graphic in this chapter, but there is rape in this chapter.

Christian had tried to keep his head down and kept to himself as much as he could since his run in with Merrill and Gallardo. He decided that only speaking when he was spoken to was the best course of action, especially around Perez. He didn't know what sort of information he was getting to Gallardo and he didn't want to run the risk of allowing what few routines he had started to have be interrupted by Gallardo and his men. He had started to switch things up as much as he could in prison in the hopes that he'd be able to avoid them.

Despite all of his efforts, nearly a week to the day that he'd been cornered in the yard, Christian found himself again surrounded by Gallardo's men in the yard. They led him to another area tucked behind a small building without any visibility from the guards or most of the yard. Christian suspected that maybe Gallardo had some of the guards on his payroll to ensure they'd allow him his privacy when he required it. It really wouldn't have surprised him. What _did_ surprise him was the sight before him. There was a tarp sprawled out across the grass and a terrified young man with some sort of protrusion visible in his stomach. There were also some crude sharp objects laying around. Christian noted that Merrill was there alongside Gallardo, who had a smirk on his face. 

"So nice of you to join us, Doctor Troy," He said to him. "We need you to get to work. I've even got Merrill here to assist you in your surgery. I know you work better in pairs," He mentioned, satisfied as he saw the horrified look crossing Christian's features. 

"What the hell is all of this?" Christian demanded to know. "What's wrong with him?" 

"Nicky here has been having a rough time. You see, he swallowed some of my product to get it in here and, well, he just can't seem to get it out of him," Gallardo informed with a smile. "That's where you two come in," He said, meaning him and Merrill. 

Christian felt sickened as he looked down at the tools presumably laying out for him. 

"No. Absolutely not. This man needs a hospital. We can't blindly operate on him, especially not out here with... what in the hell is that? A homemade shiv?" He looked at Gallardo like he was crazy. 

"I don't think you understand, Dr. Troy. I'm not asking you. I'm _telling_ you. Now, I know these aren't the conditions you're used to working under, but I'm sure you'll find a way to manage." 

"You're out of your goddamn mind if you think I'm having any part of this," Christian insisted, instinctively backing away from the situation only to run into two of Gallardo's men behind him.

"Christian," Merrill warned, not wanting him to make this worse for either of them. He looked a little terrified himself and that made Christian even more nervous. "Just do what he says," He urged him. 

Christian looked down to the terrified man laying on the tarp. He was sweating and shaking and looked like he was in agony. He looked up to Christian with pleading eyes, silently begging him not to do this. 

"I won't. I'm not going to be a part of this," Christian said firmly. "This isn't some simple procedure. This is major intestinal surgery you're suggesting. It's not just underneath the skin, it's in his guts. No surgeon in his right mind would ever touch this patient going in blind - especially not under these conditions," He told him. "I can't do this. Get a guard to send him to the infirmary." 

"If he goes to the infirmary and the hospital, they're not going to give back our product and all of this will have been for nothing," Gallardo told him. 

"Then maybe you should know when to cut your losses, because if anyone works on him out here like this, he's going to end up dead," Christian warned him. 

"Would you rather work on a corpse? Because that can be arranged," Gallardo offered and the man on the ground began to cry. 

"No. I'm not going to be a part of this," Christian told him again. He knew that he was taking a risk for his own safety, but he didn't know if he could live with himself if he inadvertently killed the man before him. 

Gallardo frowned. "You've got some stones on you, I'll give you that, Troy. More than what I gave you credit for," He assessed, looking him over. "But we had an agreement and _no one_ tells me no," He warned him. Gallardo gave a nod to his men and they grabbed Christian by the arms. Merrill was shaking his head, already knowing from experience what was coming next, but he knew better than to run. Better Christian than him, he supposed. 

Gallardo went over as Christian was struggling against the men holding him. He roughly grabbed him by the hair, holding him still and forcing him to look at him. 

"Your ass belongs to me, Dr. Troy and I think it's time you learned that lesson," He told him. He gave a nod to his men and they began to unsnap the front of Christian's jumpsuit and pull it off of him. 

"No!" Christian tried to struggle further, but Gallardo just gripped his hair tighter, threading his fingers through his dark curls.

"Scream and I'll kill you and everyone you ever gave a shit about," He threatened and Christian knew there was nothing he could do.

Christian's heart was thudding a mile a minute and he already felt sick. "You don't have to do this," He pleaded with him. There was a brief moment of hope as Gallardo moved his hand out of his hair, but that hope was soon extinguished when with a simple nod, Gallardo had ordered his men to pin him face down on the ground. The men had pinned his arms down as Gallardo got on top of him and once again his hand was on the back of his head, fingers digging into his scalp to keep him down. 

He tried not to think about what was happening to him, dissociating like he had so many times before in both his youth and when the Carver had attacked him. He just had to wait it out. He closed his eyes as tears stung them and he tried his best to focus on anything else. He could smell the grass beneath him and he tried to keep his mind on that - on anything but what was happening, still it felt like an eternity. 

It didn't fully register when the weight of the other man was off of him. Christian was still shaking on the ground, trying to choke back whatever sobs he had left in him. 

"I think next time, Dr. Troy will be a little more amenable to our needs," Gallardo said as he stood up, putting himself together again. He sounded smug and Christian wasn't about to look up at him to see for himself. "Get his clothes back on him and get him out of here," Gallardo ordered his men. "You get a pass this time. Merrill will handle this one on his own," He said of the man in agony still laying on the tarp only a few feet away. There was only so much room behind the building they were using for cover. "Next time, you're not getting out of your work so easily," He warned Christian. 

Christian felt numb as Gallardo's men manhandled him back into his clothes, just as they had getting them off. He was practically in a daze as he got up on shaky legs. He didn't look back at Merrill and his 'patient'. Yard time was almost up and the only comfort Christian had was that he'd probably spared that man another day. His stomach turned and he felt like he could be sick as he went back almost on autopilot back to his cell. All he wanted to do was take a shower to somehow wash away what had been done to him. 

He didn't say a word to his cellmate Perez as he went back, not even answering when spoken to. Christian climbed into bed, dirt covered jumpsuit and all, and waited. Somehow, he managed to fall asleep, emotionally drained from everything that had happened. 

Christian jolted awake when he was nudged and he looked around his cell wildly. Perez was standing over him, looking a little concerned. 

"Hey man, I just thought you'd want to know it's shower time," Perez said to him, seeing the fear in Christian's eyes. He stepped back a bit, giving him his space.

Christian sat up on the bed and winced a little. He was so sore all over. "Thanks," He finally said quietly, but he didn't meet his cellmate's gaze. He got up and got the things he needed before joining the line for the showers, not saying another word to Perez.

By the time he'd waited his turn and was under the hot spray, Christian was just _done_. He could still feel Gallardo's hands on him, threading through his hair and holding him down and he knew no amount of soap and water would be able to wash it away. He had to do whatever he could to survive. He had to get out of there with some semblance of himself still left. He scrubbed and scrubbed at his body and hair. Had he been at home, he was certain he would have sat in the shower until the water went cold just like he had after the Carver attacked him, but he didn't have that luxury here.


	4. Chapter 4

The next time Christian had visitation it was two days after the assault. Both Sean and Matt were there waiting on the other side of the glass, looking as uncomfortable as ever, though Christian didn't have much sympathy for their situation. He would have given anything to be on the other side of the glass instead.

"What the hell happened to you?" Sean asked his friend, alarmed by what he saw across the glass as Christian sat down. 

Christian had paid a visit to the prison barber the day before, having been unable to get the feeling of Escobar Gallardo's hands on him out of his mind. He'd had his dark hair cropped close, ensuring at least that no one would be able to get a handful of it again in order to control him. He was still sporting the beard he'd grown, still trying to hide behind it as much as he could, though he knew it was a futile effort anyway. He looked a far cry from the Dr. Christian Troy who swaggered around in designer suits, charming the pants off of any woman within a fifty foot radius.

"Yeah, after all the shit you gave me when I shaved my head and here you are like this? Did you join a gang? Should I start with the skinhead jokes now?" Matt asked and Sean gave their son a look. 

"Matt, not now," Sean snapped at him, seeing the hollow look Christian had about him. Sean had known Christian for a long time and just looking at him, he could tell that something was _very wrong_. "Go wait in the car." He knew whatever had happened since his last visit wasn't going to be shared while their son was there. 

"We just got here. I was only--"

"I don't care. _Go now_ ," He urged him and Matt got up, still pissed, but he went without much argument. Sean waited until he was gone before he spoke again. "I'm sorry. He wanted to come and I thought he'd be better," He shook his head. He hadn't expected Christian to look so different and he certainly didn't expect how defeated and broken he looked either. "What happened to you?" 

"Gallardo," Christian finally answered Sean in a hushed tone. He really hadn't spoken much in the past few days and he'd tried to avoid other people as much as he possibly could. "You have to get me out of here Sean," He pleaded with his best friend, tears already forming. "Please," He begged him. 

Sean's heart ached for his friend. He knew what Gallardo had already threatened before they'd pulled their stunt with the extensive surgery they'd given him, so he could only imagine that he'd want to exact some sort of revenge on Christian given that the opportunity had just fallen into his lap like that. Sean was fairly certain he already knew the answer to what he was about to ask, but he needed to know. "What did he do?" 

Christian was quiet for a moment, but he knew the clock was ticking on their time together and Sean was the only person he could confide in. He needed to either open up now or never. 

"He's got Merrill working for him or screwing him. I don't know. And my cellmate works for him too. He apparently has all along. I got cornered in the yard and he wanted me to work for him. There was a guy that had something that they needed to have extracted and Gallardo wanted me to do it," He said, trying to be as discreet as he could about it, given all the guards around. Christian sure as hell couldn't afford to snitch on anyone, even accidentally. "I refused and he..." Christian couldn't finish. 

Sean knew exactly what had happened to his friend. He felt sickened knowing all the abuse Christian had already endured in his life that he had to go through it again. "I'm so sorry Christian," He said to his friend softly.

Christian let out a heavy sigh and looked desperately to his friend. "Please just tell me you've got some good news about the appeal?" He asked him. It was the only thing he'd been clinging to the past few days.

"They're working on it," Sean said apologetically. "As for the Carver case, he's attacked more victims, which as horrible as it sounds makes for a better case for your release," He admitted, feeling a little cruel for even suggesting it.

Christian nodded. He felt for the victims, but he knew Sean was right. Every attack that happened was another reason for them to let him go. "How's Kimber?" He asked him, finally realizing he didn't know how she was doing after her own run in with the Carver.

"She finally agreed to let me do the reconstruction," Sean admitted. "She said she didn't want other people to have to look at a monster when they saw her," He said to him. "But after I finished, she left Miami." 

"She left? She just up and _left_? Did she say where she went? If she'd be back?" Christian asked, a little panicked about that. Kimber had been his only constant throughout this entire ordeal. She had been the only one that had stood by his side throughout, never doubting his innocence. 

Sean shook his head. "No. She wanted me to tell you that she's sorry, but that she needed it to be a clean break," He said apologetically, seeing how hurt his friend was by the news. "I think she just needs time. Considering everything the Carver did to her, anybody would have a hard time getting back to normal." 

Christian couldn't believe it. Kimber had finally abandoned him. "Yeah..." He absentmindedly agreed, but he felt a sinking feeling from the loss. She was just another person he couldn't count on.

"Hey, she'll be alright. I'm sure she'll come to her senses soon," Sean said, trying to comfort his friend, but Christian shook his head. 

"I think she's finally come to her senses by leaving," He told him. "I know I'd sure as hell like to leave," He admitted. 

"We _will_ get you out, Christian," Sean promised his friend, wishing there were something more he could do than offer him platitudes. 

"Until then, I don't know what I'm going to do," Christian said to him, looking a little desperate. "Tell me what to do, Sean," He pleaded, looking to his friend for guidance, but Sean didn't have any answers for him. 

Sean looked apprehensive, as if he whole thing were giving him a permanent ulcer. "You just have to survive in here a while longer," He urged him. "Do what you have to do to survive and I promise I'm going to do everything I can to get you out of here as soon as possible."

Christian knew there wasn't much more Sean could do for him from the outside. He knew their visitation time was almost up. "Tell Matty I'm sorry," He said apologetically. 

"You don't have to apologize. He was being an ass," Sean told him. 

"I deserved it," Christian dismissed. Matt had been going through something at the time and while Christian didn't fully understand it, he knew now it was more complicated than he'd ever given him credit for, instead making cracks at his appearance every time he got the chance. "And tell him I haven't joined a gang, at least not yet," He said to him. "This was just..." 

"Survival?" Sean finished for him and Christian nodded. 

"Survival," He agreed. The guard came over and tapped Christian's shoulder, indicating that their time was up. He felt a surge of panic rush through him at the thought of going back to the hell that had become his life, but he knew it was inevitable. 

"You'll be okay," Sean assured his friend. "I'll see you soon," He told him. He watched as Christian replaced the phone and was shuffled off, presumably back to his cell. Sean felt uneasy as he watched him go. He knew his friend was strong, but he was worried about how long he'd survive with Gallardo after him.


	5. Chapter 5

"What the hell is all this? Where's your search warrant?" Sean asked as he walked into the offices of McNamera/Costa. There were police all over the place and it looked like a cyclone had hit the office. Nothing was in its place. They'd dealt with a similar raid when Christian went to trial and it had taken so long to get everything back where it belonged. Sean couldn't imagine why they were back now. 

Kit McGraw sauntered over to Sean like she owned the place. She handed him a few folded pieces of paper. "I'm sure you'll find it's all in order," She said to him. 

Sean glanced at the papers and then back to her. "What is this about? You've been through the office already when you were railroading Christian!" 

"So you're supportive of Christian again?" She asked with a hint of amusement in her voice. "You now believe he's innocent?"

"You didn't answer my question," Sean said to her with a glare.

"We have reason to believe that whoever is committing these latest Carver attacks is connected to your practice," Kit stated. 

" _Connected_? You think it's one of us?" Sean asked, alarmed at that. 

"As soon as we have what we need, we'll be making an arrest," Kit said to him. 

"So you're finally willing to admit you put an innocent man in prison?" Sean asked.

"I would hardly call Christian innocent by any stretch of the word," Kit said coldly. "All we know is that he couldn't have committed the latest Carver attacks from his prison cell, but someone could have been acting on his behalf." 

"This is _insane_ ," Sean insisted, frustrated. "Christian didn't do this. None of us here did this. We were _victims_ of the Carver, for Christsake!" 

"Then explain to me how at the latest crime scene last night, painted on the wall in the blood of one of the victims was the message 'Free Christian'?" 

"Obviously the real Carver is frustrated that his warped message is getting lost since he framed Christian," Sean theorized. 

"Or perhaps the real Carver is already paying for his crimes and this is just a ploy by his friends to get him out?" Kit suggested, crossing her arms. 

"Don't you think the agony Kimber went through disproves that theory?" Sean asked her. Kit had been on the scene when Kimber had been found walking the side of the road, naked and bleeding after the Carver had finally let her go.

"And all of the damage done to her was easily reversed by you and your colleagues," Kit pointed out. 

"She _left_ Miami because of what he did to her -- because of the hell he put her through," He insisted. "Physically she'll be okay, but mentally she's completely traumatized." 

Kit rolled her eyes. "I'm certain Kimber will land on her feet or perhaps more likely her back," She said to him. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a search to get back to." Kit turned to go.

"You've never told me who your suspect is," Sean called after her. 

She glanced back at him. "I know," She said before sauntering off again. 

Sean sighed heavily and went towards the break room. He was going to need coffee if he was going to have to deal with this. 

Christian, meanwhile, wasn't having the best day either. He was again having yard time and trying his best to avoid everyone he could. He just wanted a few uninterrupted moments of fresh air and sunshine - just something to remind him of life outside of the walls of the prison. He closed his eyes a moment, taking a deep breath as he tried to calm his nerves. He was on edge, afraid that Gallardo would try something again.

"Christian? Is that you?" Merrill's voice cut through the air, shattering whatever hope Christian had of a moment's peace. He opened his eyes again, finding Merrill jogging over to him. 

"Who the hell else would it be, Merrill?" Christian snapped at him. He wasn't in the mood to deal with him.

"What did you do?" He asked, getting a look at him once he'd caught up to him. He was shocked to see how short he'd shorn his hair. "Escobar's not gonna like that," He warned.

Christian glared at him. "I don't give a shit what he thinks," He said defensively. He wasn't going to allow himself to be used again by him and he had convinced himself that he would somehow be able to deter him from another attack.

"You should. Look, I shouldn't even be over here, but I had to warn you. If all goes as planned, I'll be getting out very soon and if Escobar doesn't have me around, who do you think is going to take the brunt of his abuse next?" Merrill asked him with a look. 

Christian felt a little sick as the realization hit him. He hadn't really considered Merrill an ally in prison so far. Hell, he'd gone as far as actively avoiding him as much as possible, but the thought of him actually leaving shook him to his core. Merrill had actually committed his crimes. He shouldn't have been released before him.

"When are you getting out?" Christian finally asked him. 

"Hopefully by next week," Merrill told him. "There are some things you need to know before I do. I think Escobar's planning something and I think he's going to get you involved." 

"I don't want any part of whatever bullshit he's got planned," He snapped at him.

"I don't think you understand that you're not going to have any say in any of this. Escobar Gallardo is the kind of guy that takes what he wants. He's got you pegged for his next prison wife when I get out." 

"What?" Christian asked, alarmed. 

"You've been in prison for half a year already and you've not heard about this stuff yet?" He asked him. "It's a thing. I'm surprised he didn't mark you already the other day when he had the chance." 

"What the hell are you talking about?" He demanded of him. 

"His guys will hold you down and they'll tattoo his name on your ass," He told him. "And then... then what happened to you to the other day will seem like a walk in the park compared to what else he'll do. That was just a preview."

Christian's blood ran cold and he felt another wave of nausea hit him as his stomach twisted in knots. Lingering phantom pains and touches still haunted him days later, and threatened with the promise of more, he wasn't sure he was strong enough to endure the incoming onslaught. 

"I'm not telling you this to scare you," Merrill continued, seeing how pale Christian was getting. "I just want you to be prepared for what's going to happen to you. I wouldn't wish this on anyone else." 

"What do I do? How do I stop it?" Christian asked, already feeling a little helpless. 

"You don't. Believe me, if there were a way, I would have figured it out by now. At least you're not his cell mate though. Don't let them transfer you there after I'm gone," Merrill thought the distance between them might help. He had no escape, but maybe Christian would be allowed a little reprieve.

Christian was still worried now more than ever. "My cell mate already works for him. I don't think it's going to matter much."

"Believe me, there's a difference," Merrill told him. "The first thing I'm going to do when I get out is go to your practice and get Sean to do an anal retread on me," He admitted, letting him know just how bad it had gotten. 

"Jesus..." Christian said softly. "Merrill, I'm sorry," He said to him. Even though Merrill had needed to pay for his crimes, he certainly didn't deserve this. Nobody deserved it. 

"If you talk to Sean, can you ask him to take on my case?" He asked of him. 

Christian was a little hesitant. He really didn't think Sean would be comfortable enough with that idea to agree, but Christian didn't want to make waves. If Merrill went to Gallardo saying he was being difficult, he didn't want to find out what would happen. "I'll see what I can do," He finally settled on and Merrill nodded. 

"Thanks," He told him, going quiet for a moment. He glanced over at Christian. "You know what? Keep your head shaved like that," He advised him. "Escobar likes to have something to grab onto. It might help keep him at bay a little," He told him. 

"You never did tell me what else he's got planned," Christian said to him. 

"I don't know yet," He admitted. "But it's big. In the meantime, watch yourself. I should be getting back before I'm missed," Merrill said. "I'll see you soon." 

Christian watched as Merrill jogged away from him. He felt even more unsettled than he had before. So much for a moment's peace.


	6. Chapter 6

"They think it's Liz," Sean told Christian the next time he went to visit him. Christian had barely had enough time to sit down and pick up the receiver before Sean had gotten the words out.

"Hello to you too, buddyboy," Christian said dryly. "Who thinks what's Liz?" He asked him.

"Kit... the police. They think Liz is the Carver. Or at least they think she's some sort of copycat," Sean admitted. "They arrested her yesterday."

"What? No. That's bullshit. Lizzie's not capable of doing something like that," Christian was quick to insist. They had worked with her for nine years. Even if none of them had believed Christian's innocence, he wasn't going to use it as a reason to begrudge Liz the benefit of the doubt. He knew she wasn't capable of anything so horrific. "I know Kit's not exactly Sherlock Holmes, but since when are they just ignoring the fact that the Carver has a dick?" 

Sean took in a breath, knowing this part of the conversation was coming. "The Carver struck again with a sorority house a few nights ago," He mentioned. "One of the girls walked in on the Carver raping one of her sorority sisters. Apparently what she saw was a strap on," Sean admitted. 

"A fake dick? That's all that they have to go on to make them think it's a woman? To make them think it's Lizzie?" Christian asked, already incensed by that. 

"They did a search of her place and found one--"

"No shit, Sean. She's a lesbian. They're going to railroad Lizzie based on a goddamn sex toy just like they railroaded me?" Christian asked him, absolutely seething. He didn't want any of his friends to have to go through the hell he was going through by being falsely accused. 

"I don't know. We're doing everything we can right now," Sean promised him. 

"It's not going to be enough... not if Kit's got some vendetta against Liz now too," Christian insisted.

"There's not much any of us can do but offer her our support," Sean said to him. 

"Yeah and we'll see how far that goes once Kit plants more evidence incriminating her too," Christian bitterly snapped at him and Sean looked a little wounded. 

"Christian, I--"

"Save it," Christian said to him with a sigh. "Look, it's not you. It's just I think things are probably going to get a lot worse in here soon," He said to him.

"What do you mean? What's happened?" Sean had been so concerned about telling him about what was happening with the Carver case and with Liz that he hadn't thought about what might have been going on with his friend. 

"Merrill's getting out and he seems to think that's going to make things worse for me in here," Christian admitted to his friend.

"Why? Does he protect you?" Sean asked him and Christian would have laughed had the situation not been so grim.

"Merrill? They think he's a snitch because he pled down and sold out Madame Rose in his deal. In here, I at least have some cred where they think I'm the Carver," Christian admitted. "No, it's where he's Gallardo's prison wife," He said, keeping his voice low. 

"I'm sorry, his _what_?" Sean asked him. 

"I told you before that I thought he was screwing him," He mentioned. "Look, when Merrill gets out, he said he's going to come to you for an anal retread and I think you need to do it as part of the pro-bono work," Christian suggested. 

"You know that's an expensive operation, Christian. The business never completely bounced back from all of this. We're doing less pro-bono these days as it is. Why should I give preference to someone like Merrill who once tried to cut your face off?" Sean asked him. 

"Because he's close to Gallardo now, Sean. If you don't, I don't know what else could happen to me in here. Please, just give him what he wants," He requested of him a little desperately. "I don't know if I'm going to make it in here if things get worse." 

Sean looked a little torn, but he could see Christian was practically begging him. "Alright. If he shows up, I'll give him the surgery," He conceded and Christian looked relieved. 

"Thanks..." Christian was quiet for a moment, thinking about things for a moment. "Do the press know about Lizzie yet?" He asked him suddenly. 

Sean looked a little confused, but he shook his head. "No, they only just arrested her yesterday. Why?" 

"Leak it. Leak who she is. Leak what they think she did," He instructed him. "Call up that... oh shit, what was her name? The one that covered the whole Carver thing. I slept with her..." He listed off, hoping Sean could fill in the blanks.

"Andrea Hall?" Sean asked, realizing who he meant. "Christian, slow down. We can't just leak Liz's info to the press," He insisted. 

"Why not? Look, if the real Carver's pissed off that I'm getting credit for his work, he'll be even more pissed that Liz is getting the blame too," Christian reasoned. "If someone else gets attacked while she's in custody--"

"Are you even listening to yourself right now?" Sean quietly snapped at him. "You _want_ someone else to get hurt?" He was horrified that his friend would even think that. 

"Of course not, but if it proves that Liz isn't the Carver, then it's worth the risk," Christian insisted. "I should have when they first brought me in. It would have proven beyond a doubt that I didn't do this. Leak her name, Sean," He implored him. "You'll be saving her life." 

Sean still looked torn. If the plan worked like Christian expected it to, it was most assuredly damning someone else to injury at the hands of the real Carver. He wasn't sure how he could live with that responsibility, even if it meant helping Liz. 

"Please, Sean," Christian said to him, knowing that look. "The more he acts out, the more he might slip up... and if he does, then it might help get me out of here too," He insisted. 

Sean finally gave a nod, but he still looked just as uneasy as before. "I'll call Andrea Hall tonight," He assured him quietly, as the guard came over to end their time together. He watched once again as Christian was led away in chains.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started writing this chapter and I just couldn't wait to get it out. This chapter gets a little intense and violent. It's also best if you're familiar with season four, specifically the episode Merrill Bobolit.

"Long time no see, Sean," Merrill greeted him as he made himself comfortable in the seat across from Sean's desk at McNamera/Costa. He was fresh out of prison and true to his word, Sean's practice had been one of his first stops. "Whatever happened to, ' _How you doing_?', ' _Looking great_!' or ' _Good to see you got out_?'" Merrill asked him. 

"The only reason I'm taking this consult at all is because Christian asked me to," Sean said to him, being perfectly clear about that.

"So he informed you about my situation?" Merrill asked him as he took a glance at the clock. 

"He told me you need an anal retread because of what was done to you," Sean said carefully. 

"Yeah and you're going to do it for free," Merrill said confidently. 

"It's an expensive procedure, Merrill. I told Christian I would take the consult, but I'm just not sure we're going to be able to do it," Sean told him. 

What Sean hadn't told Christian before was that he and Quentin had sold a majority share of the business to Landau Industries after the late Burt Landau and his much younger wife Michelle had offered to purchase the business as part of their work as medical venture capitalists. Sean had needed the money and they needed the business to be more successful than it had been after the hit it had taken with the whole Carver mess. As such, Sean didn't think Michelle Landau would allow him to do Merrill's surgery pro-bono. She was currently out of town dealing with her husband's funeral arrangements and scattering his ashes. 

Merrill shifted in his seat. "Oh, I think you'll take on my case unless you want the police to hear about your friend in the Everglades," He said, saying just what Escobar had told him to. Sean paled at the mention of the Everglades. That was where they'd disposed of Silvio Perez' body the first time they'd encountered Escobar Gallardo. "Yeah, Escobar told me you'd react like that," Merrill mentioned. 

"I'll schedule your surgery for tomorrow," Sean promised him, not wanting to antagonize him further. He didn't know what Escobar had told Merrill and he didn't want to know. So long as both of them were placated, his and Christian's secret wouldn't get out. 

"I thought you would," Merrill said. He gave a glance to his watch. "Oh and I hope your schedule's not too packed today either. You should be getting a phone call sometime soon from the prison," He mentioned casually as he stood up. 

"Why? Why would they be calling me?" Sean asked him, suspiciously. "What do you know, Merrill?" 

"Just what Escobar told me. All he said was that you're to expect a call from the prison and you'd better come. Both him and Christian are counting on you," Merrill told him as he moved to leave.

Sean felt pretty unsettled as Merrill left. He didn't know what was going on or what was happening at the prison, but he hoped it wasn't anything too terrible for Christian's sake. With such a vague warning, all he could do until he got that call was wait. 

Christian was trying his best to keep to himself after Merrill had been released. He was worried that now that Merrill was gone that his warnings would come to fruition about becoming Escobar Gallardo's next target. His worries weren't entirely unfounded as he found himself being cornered once again by Gallardo's men during his yard time. He'd managed to dodge another face to face meeting with him since his assault, but now it seemed that time was up. He was led over to him, flanked on either side by the men that had pinned him down before and he already felt like he could be sick. There was no use in running. It would only make things worse.

"Dr. Troy," Gallardo addressed, looking him over in a way that made Christian uneasy. "Just the man I wanted to see," He said, looking pleased with himself. 

"What do you want?" Christian asked him, trying his best not to recoil as Gallardo circled him like a shark. 

"For one thing, you need to shave that shit off your face," Gallardo told him, meaning the beard. "It ages you, especially with your new haircut, which doesn't suit you, by the way. Plus, I think that beard's gonna get in the way of what I have planned," Gallardo walked over and tossed him a new dull razor that they were allowed and some shaving cream. 

"You want me to do this here? _Now_?" Christian asked, confused as he caught the things Gallardo had thrown at him. 

"We've only got so much yard time and I'm on a tight schedule," He said to him. "You can leave it if you really want, but I'm just looking out for your best interests," Gallardo told him. 

Christian knew he needed to pick his battles carefully and it wasn't like the beard was making much of a difference in helping him to blend in with the other inmates anyway. Reluctantly, he moved to sit down and get to work. He noticed Gallardo had even had his men set up a cup of water so he could rinse the razor as he went and one of the men came over to hold up a mirror for him. In all of the nightmare scenarios he'd imagined, nothing quite this bizarre had ever crossed his mind. It was so absurd and almost a welcome distraction that he'd almost forgotten the mention of a plan for him. _Almost_. He took his time shaving off the beard, but he knew he couldn't stretch it out for that long. He tried not to focus too much on his reflection in the small mirror, using it only as a guide when he needed it not to miss a spot.

Once he was finished, one of Gallardo's men cleaned up the area, disposing of the cup and the razor. Christian was nervous and he felt a little more exposed than he had since arriving at the prison. The thought briefly occurred to him that Gallardo wanted him clean shaven so his beard wouldn't irritate him during some sort of sexual act and Christian felt worry settle in again. 

"That's better, right?" Gallardo asked, going over and looking him over. "Don't look so nervous, Dr. Troy," He said to him, patting his cheek. "You just took the first step in getting yourself out of here," He told him.

Of all the things Gallardo could have said to him, he hadn't expected that. "What do you mean?" 

Gallardo smiled. "I'm going to need you to trust me," He said. He motioned for his men to come over again. They grabbed Christian by the arms as he continued. "You see, I'm tired of being Armand Ortiz. I need my own face back and I need your cooperation to make it happen. Plus, I think Sean will be a little more inclined to help if he has to treat the both of us," He insisted. He went over, picking up a can of lighter fluid, a rag, and a lighter he'd had stashed underneath a bucket they'd used as a seat. Christian had no idea how in the hell he'd managed to get something like that in prison, but he was absolutely panicking now. He struggled against the men holding him, who gripped his arms tighter to keep him in place. 

"You don't have to do this," Christian was quick to insist as Gallardo neared him with the now drenched rag and the lighter. "Please," Christian begged him. "Burn victims are hard to treat. They never look exactly how they did before their injuries," He quickly explained. "Please don't do this to me. Sean will do any sort of surgery you want once you're out, just please don't set me on fire," He desperately begged him with tears in his eyes. Christian had treated his fair share of burn victims over the years and he couldn't imagine the fresh hell of being one of them.

"Oh, this isn't for you," Gallardo assured him and for a moment, Christian's panic abated. "But I will need to mess up your pretty face a bit to get you out too. You scream and mess this up for us and I will set you on fire, you understand me?" He asked him. 

"You don't have to do this," Christian repeated. "I won't tell anyone and Sean will help you-" 

"I need you both," Gallardo insisted to him, as he set aside the rag for a moment. 

"If you hurt me to get me out, it's not like they'll let me treat you. I don't even have my goddamn license anymore. I--" 

Christian felt the blow before he even saw it coming. His eyesight blurred as he tried to process what had just happened to him. He didn't even have a moment to gather himself before Gallardo was hitting him again, wailing on his face as the others held him still. He fell to his knees, trying to protect himself as the men held onto his arms, but Gallardo moved faster, tackling him to the ground as the others pinned him down again just as they had when they'd assaulted him before only this time he was face up. With Gallardo straddling him and the others working to keep him down, he was defenseless. Christian felt him hit him a few more times before it stopped. He opened his eyes, looking up at the man above him outlined by the sun. He saw the glint of something metallic in his hand.

"No... Please no," He managed to whimper as he cried. "Please don't. Please," He pleaded, struggling uselessly. 

"This is why I had you shave," Gallardo explained to him. "It'll make it easier for Sean to fix, right?" He asked. He reached to hold Christian's head still. "You keep squirming like that and it's gonna be so much worse," He warned him.

Christian felt the blade pierce his skin, slicing from the corner of his lip back to his cheek. He wanted to scream, but he knew Gallardo would make good on his promise if he did. Memories of that night the Carver had attacked him flooded his mind and he could nearly feel the blade slashing his throat back then. He almost wished that it had been the Carver slicing him now instead. At least he'd know the injuries would be consistent with the others he had inflicted. He wasn't even sure what Gallardo was using on him or how deep he was going with the wound. Tears streamed down Christian's face mixing with the fresh blood as Gallardo repeated the cut on the other side, giving him the complete Carver treatment. 

Christian's whole face was throbbing and tears were clouding his vision. He felt like he was going to choke on the blood that had made its way into his mouth, the metallic taste of it threatening to make him sick. He just wanted it to be over with. He was hoping he'd black out from the pain soon, just in case there was more planned for him. He couldn't endure much more. It barely even registered to him that no one was holding his arms down anymore or that the weight of another man was off of him. He curled up on the ground in a futile attempt to protect himself from any further attacks. He rolled onto his side, spitting out the blood from his mouth and letting the rest drip down on the ground. 

Gallardo's scream pulled him out of his own thoughts of despair and he instinctively looked up to see what was happening. Between the haze of tears and the swelling that was starting around his eyes from the punches he'd taken, he saw the fire engulfing Gallardo's face. Christian thought he might be sick, but he swallowed away the urge, knowing it would further irritate his own injuries. He averted his eyes from the horror only a few feet away. He wasn't a doctor anymore. That distinction had been taken from him the moment he'd been imprisoned and he didn't owe Escobar Gallardo a damn thing. Part of him hoped Gallardo accidentally killed himself. It would have solved at least some of Christian's problems.

Christian finally saw a group of guards running towards them, though more so towards Gallardo to help put out the fire he'd started on his own face.

"Help me! Please!" Christian choked out. "Please help me," He begged, getting the attention of at least one of the guards.

"Jesus Christ," The guard said as he stood over Christian. The others were still working on helping Gallardo. The guard radioed in that they'd need two transports to the infirmary. "What happened to you? Have you been stabbed anywhere else or is it just your face?" 

Christian knew he was going into shock. He was just thankful that there were finally guards there to help him.

"Inmate, have you been harmed anywhere else?" The guard repeated and Christian snapped out of a bit at the word 'inmate'. He was just another nameless prisoner. 

"Just... Just my face," Christian managed to get out. "I'm a surgeon. Call Dr. Sean McNamera. He'll help me. He'll fix me," He insisted. He knew Sean was still listed as his emergency contact in their system. They'd have to inform him of any injuries he'd sustained and he hoped Sean would come running to his aid.


	8. Chapter 8

Just as Merrill had said, Sean got the phone call from the prison later that afternoon. He canceled the rest of his consults and rushed to the prison's medical facility where both Escobar and Christian had been taken to for treatment. Sean didn't know how many traffic laws he'd broken on the way, but he was sure he'd made it there in record time. He was stopped at the door by the guards and made to remove anything metal before he was allowed to enter. There were several beds with inmates all lining the walls and he hurried to where they'd directed him to find Christian at the very end. 

Sean felt like he'd been punched in the gut as he looked at the state his best friend was in. "Oh my god, Christian..." He said softly. He couldn't tell if his eyes were closed or just swollen shut and there was bruising and swelling all around. His nose was still noticeably broken as well, but it was the red gashes on his face that stood out the most. Someone, presumably one of the prison doctors, had hastily stitched him up to stop the bleeding, but it certainly wasn't up to either of their standards. If he didn't intervene and perhaps even if he did, the wounds would surely leave nasty scars, maiming him for life.

Sean felt a mixture of heartbreak and rage fill him. He knew Christian didn't belong in prison in the first place. Everything had already been taken from him and now someone was trying to strip away the last of his vanity too. He knew that Christian had always relied on his good looks and without them, Sean wasn't sure what would be left of him. Even when he had nothing else, Christian had always counted on his looks and charm to get him through. Sean knew he'd been struggling in prison and that he'd endured more pain in his life than even Sean knew. Would this be what finally broke his friend completely? 

"Christian, can you hear me?" Sean asked him. He wasn't sure if he was passed out or if they'd given him something to ease the pain. "It's Sean. I'm here," He assured him. 

Christian opened his eyes as much as he could, blinking a few times against the light. "Hey buddyboy," He greeted him softly. Due to the swelling and the stitches, it hurt to open his mouth too much and he was speaking a little differently to compensate. 

"I'm so sorry," Sean apologized to him. He felt so guilty that he hadn't done more to get him out of there before something like this had happened. 

"How bad?" He asked him, looking to him desperately. 

"They haven't let you see yet?" Sean asked him.

"No," Christian told him. He knew why. They were used to treating violent inmates and he was sure they'd probably dealt with their fair share of those who would have lashed out at seeing themselves like this. He knew it was probably pretty bad but he wasn't sure if he was beyond help. He moved his arms a little, showing that they were cuffed to the bed. He couldn't even feel his face to see if there were any broken bones sustained from the punches he'd taken. "How bad?" He repeated.

Sean reached over gently and touched some of the places to check for breaks. Christian winced a little at his touch, but he knew it was necessary. It also wasn't lost on Christian that it was the first physical contact he'd had with his friend in over a year and a half. It was the first physical contact in that long that he didn't have to be wary of. He trusted Sean completely and he hadn't realized how much he'd missed just being able to feel so at ease with someone else's hands on him.

"A lot of this is just swelling and bruising," He commented. "Your cheekbone's fractured and you'll definitely need rhinoplasty, but we knew that before," He mentioned. Still, the previous injury had only been exacerbated. "You know I'll be able to tell more later." 

"And the cuts?" He asked him. 

"You know I'll do my best," He promised him. Sean couldn't make the promise to him that he'd look exactly as he had before. He wouldn't know until they had him in surgery where he could really see how much damage was done. Still, if there was anyone in the world Christian trusted with his face, it was Sean. 

The men were quiet for a few moments, before Sean finally spoke again. "Who did this to you?"

"Who do you think?" Christian said to him softly. He hadn't told the guards what had happened or given any official statements on the incident. When they did come asking him about it, he knew if he wanted to live that his best option would be to play dumb and to tell them he didn't get a good look at his attacker. 

"Where is he?" Sean had expected to see him there from the way Merrill had talked. 

"He's over there," Christian motioned to the man with extensive bandages on the bed next to him. He was out cold thanks to the medication. "He's got third degree burns on his face and hands." 

"Did you...?" Sean didn't think Christian was capable of setting another person on fire, but then again, if he'd been fighting for his life, he wasn't sure what he'd be able to do to survive. 

"No. I just didn't help put him out," Christian told him honestly. There was a coldness to his voice that suggested he would have been fine to let him burn. That change in him worried Sean more than the injuries Christian had sustained. Would he really have been alright with letting another person die - even if that person was Escobar Gallardo? 

Sean shifted uncomfortably on his feet. "I'm going to talk to them about getting you out of here and back to the practice to fix this," He told him, turning to do just that, but Christian reached out for him. The handcuffs clinked noisily against the metal he was chained to on the bed. 

"Wait. Not just me. You have to treat him too," Christian informed him. He wasn't happy about it, but he knew that if he got treatment and Gallardo didn't, he was surely signing his own death warrant when he ended up back in prison. Either that or Gallardo would make good on his promise of setting him aflame and as awful as his injuries were now, he didn't want to make them worse. 

"Christian, I'll be lucky if they even let me get you out of here," He admitted to him honestly. Even if the work was pro-bono, he still wasn't sure if the warden would allow him to take one convicted murderer out of the prison for reconstructive surgery, let alone two. They would insist on a police detail with them around the clock and he knew that would be an expense that might not be in their budget. 

"You can't just leave me like this," Christian said to him. " _They_ can't leave me like this!" He was beginning to get worked up, raising his voice despite the pain it was causing him due to his injuries. "It's inhumane. It's--" 

"Settle down, Inmate!" One of the guards called out in warning and Christian obediently shut up. It startled Sean to see such a quick change in his friend's demeanor and that he would even answer to that. He could see that Christian was still averting his gaze, looking anywhere but Sean. He'd never seen him so submissive. Even when he was in one of Kit's many interrogations, Christian had fought back with everything he had, matching her barb for barb. He was never one to take orders, but Sean could see now that wasn't the case. 

"Hey," Sean said softly. He reached out and put a comforting hand on Christian's. "It'll be okay. No matter what I have to do, I won't leave you like this," He promised him. Sean wasn't exactly sure how he'd make good on his promise, but if it meant volunteering his services somehow at the prison or paying someone off, he'd be willing to try it. 

Escobar Gallardo started to stir in the bed next to Christian's and Sean could see his friend tense up.

"It's okay," Sean assured Christian again. "You're okay." 

"Is that Sean?" Gallardo sounded groggy, undoubtedly from the painkillers they had him on, but he had more of his wits about him than Sean had expected after such injuries. "You...You come to ask what I don't like about myself?" He managed to get out. "Or is that too obvious right now?" What was obvious was that he was in a considerable amount of pain, but he was still determined to speak. "That was some clever shit you guys pulled. I copped a plea the real Escobar never would have gotten, but I wanna go back to being the man I was. The Escobar people feared," He explained. 

"So you set your face on fire?" Sean asked in a hushed tone so that the guards wouldn't hear across the room. 

"One thing prison has taught me, you live and die not just based on who you are but who people perceive you to be. Isn't that right, Dr. Troy?" Escobar asked him and Christian was sure there was a smarmy smirk hiding behind all the bandages. 

"Go to hell, Gallardo," Christian snapped at him, emboldened a little by Sean's presence there. "We're still in the prison chop shop. I tried to tell you hurting me and yourself wouldn't get you out of here." 

" _Us_ ," Escobar corrected. "And you leave that to me. The warden will let us have all the work done at McNamera/Troy. I take care of his heroin habit and he takes care of me," He assured them. Neither man corrected him that it wasn't McNamera/Troy any longer. 

Christian wasn't really comforted by that in the slightest, but Escobar seemed so certain that he could pull it off. He exuded a practiced ease and confidence that Christian didn't think he'd feel even once they were recovering at the office, let alone after suffering massive third degree burns. 

"Have you talked to him yet?" Sean piped up, wanting to know how much he was going to have to fight to get them released for treatment. "I'd like to get you both back to the office as soon as possible," He told Escobar.

"I'll get it done within a few hours," Escobar promised. He lifted up one of his hands which was covered in bandages, waving to the guard to beckon him over. 

Sean looked to Christian. "I'm not leaving you until I know that we're getting you transported," He promised him. He knew he'd let his friend down in the past, but he wasn't about to make that mistake again. He would help Christian as best he could and stand his ground to make sure he got the care he needed.


	9. Chapter 9

Escobar Gallardo had been true to his word and in less than eight hours since the moment Christian had been cornered in the prison yard, he had been transported to the familiar recovery room of McNamera/Troy -- now McNamera/Costa. He didn't know he'd be so overcome with emotion at seeing the business he and Sean had built from the ground up, but from the moment he'd gotten there, he'd been on the verge of tears. There was part of him that had feared he'd never be there again and while the circumstances for his presence now weren't ideal, he was thankful to be home. There were guards stationed outside of his room and outside of Gallardo's as well. Sean had insisted they be put in separate rooms for Christian's sake and the guards hadn't resisted the idea. 

Sean had wanted to take Christian into surgery right away to start repairing the damage, but Christian had stopped him. His face was important to him, of course, but he had just gotten to the practice and he honestly feared a speedy recovery. He knew they'd be all too eager to rush him back to prison and he wasn't sure he could handle it. They needed to drag this out for as long as they possibly could. It was a calculated risk that he was willing to take. His looks were a major part of who he was, but for his mental well being, he needed the reprieve from the living hell his life had become. Just the fact that he was willing to risk that kind of horrific scarring spoke volumes about his situation and Sean hadn't been in any position to argue.

Christian was alone in the room. Sean had gone off to tend to Gallardo's wounds instead and come up with a gameplan of how to repair the damage and restore his face to his former appearance as much as he could. The guards were outside, but the windows allowed them a clear view of their prisoner and they'd cuffed Christian to the bed for good measure, obviously not realizing there was no place else he could even go or that he'd rather be. He glanced over when he heard the door open and he was surprised to see Liz standing there. 

"Long time no see," He said to her, hoping to break the silence between them.

"Oh Christian..." Liz was getting a little choked up as she saw what had been done to him, but she still stood frozen in the doorway. 

"It's still me, Lizzie," Christian reminded her softly. He wondered if that was how everyone was going to look at him from now on. During the trial, he'd gotten used to people looking at him like he was a monster, but this was different. This was too much. He still hadn't seen himself at Sean's insistence but he was second guessing that decision now. He was used to being looked at as less than human by the guards, so their disgust hadn't come as much of a surprise to him, but seeing someone he considered a good friend look at him like that gave him pause. 

"I'm sorry," Liz apologized as she stepped into the room a little further. She wiped her eyes and approached the bed. "Sean told me you were here, but he didn't tell me..." She shook her head, not finishing what she was thinking. 

"It's okay," He found himself saying, but it couldn't be further from the truth. Nothing was okay and it hadn't been for a very long time for him. He didn't know if it ever would.

"No. No, it's not," Liz insisted. "You needed me. You needed all of us and we weren't there for you. We should have stood by you. I am so sorry I ever doubted you," She went over to his bedside and took his free hand in her own. 

It was all catching up with him. The tears that had been threatening to fall all evening finally spilled over and Christian couldn't hold them back any longer. He'd felt so alone and abandoned by his friends over the course of the trial and especially after he'd been put away. "Why?" He choked out. It had been over a year and a half since this whole thing had started and Liz had lost faith in him early on. He didn't know why she'd suddenly changed her mind about him now. "Why now?" 

"They thought I was the Carver too. Sean told me it was your idea to leak my name to the press," Liz admitted. She wasn't proud of the fact that the Carver had maimed another victim in order to prove her innocence, but she knew she'd probably be on the same path Christian had been without the advice he'd given Sean. She squeezed his hand supportively. "You were looking out for me even after I gave up on you," She said. She felt like an ass for the way she'd so swiftly ostracized him. The Carver attacks were still on-going and it was obvious to anyone involved with the case that it wasn't just the work of a copycat. "I know you're not capable of what they said you did. You deserved better and I don't know how I can ever make it up to you, but I hope maybe someday you'll forgive me." 

Christian hadn't known how much he had needed to hear that from someone. He didn't know how much he needed to be believed. Even though Sean had come back into his life, he hadn't expected anyone else to have such a change of heart about him. It overwhelmed him with everything that had happened. He was still crying and Liz pressed a kiss to his forehead. "Thank you, Lizzie," He said to her softly.

It broke her heart to see him so broken. Had it not been for the guards on standby outside of his room, Liz would have climbed into the bed with him to pull him close and comfort him while he cried. Instead she settled for keeping hold of his hand. There were none of the usual smartass remarks to be had between the two of them now, not like how they used to be. They sat like that in silence for a while, Liz allowing him to let it all out until they were interrupted.

“So the news is true. Welcome back, Christian.” Quentin was leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed. He looked smug seeing Christian in his current state. “How the mighty have fallen.”

Christian pulled his hand away from Liz's, trying his best to quickly compose himself and not allow Quentin to see him so upset. 

“You need to go,” Liz snapped at him, not appreciating being interrupted or how pleased he looked at Christian's situation. 

“What is it, Liz? I'm just checking in on my patient,” Quentin defended. “Along with Sean, we do still own half of this business. I'm certainly more a part of it than you are.”

“What does he mean by that?” Christian asked her. 

Before Liz could answer, Quentin continued. “Oh, Sean's not told you yet?” He asked with feigned innocence. “We sold a majority share of the business to Landau Industries six months ago,” He mentioned casually. “And Liz here is only around on a case by case basis now that she's the general practitioner at De La Mer.”

Christian was confused. Sean hadn't ever mentioned selling the practice or Liz leaving. “What the hell is De La Mer?” He asked, but he looked to Liz for answers.

“It's an all inclusive recovery spa owned by Julia and Gina,” She explained and Christian was even more dumbfounded than before. So much had changed and absolutely none of it made any sense. He could partially understand Sean selling off part of the business if he had been strapped for cash but he felt like he should have at least told him. Even though he didn't own a part of the business anymore, he still felt a little betrayed that he'd not even been consulted on the sale and that he'd had to find out from Quentin of all people. The spa had come completely out of left field as well. What the hell did either Julia or Gina know about running a business? He simply couldn't fathom it.

"Don't look so shocked, Christian. They're all very capable," Quentin said as he went closer to Christian's bedside. 

"What are you doing?" Liz asked him with a frown. 

"I'd like to get a look at his injuries if I'm expected to work on him. Sean called me earlier to come in so that we could get him into surgery," Quentin explained. 

"I'm not going into surgery tonight and Sean's already assessed the damage as much as we can before he has me on the table," Christian told him. 

"What do you mean you're not going into surgery? You need to have this repaired as soon as possible. You know that," Quentin eyed him suspiciously. "Are you intentionally putting it off in order to stay out of prison longer?" He accused him quietly so the guards outside wouldn't hear. "You are, aren't you?" Quentin smiled a little. "You're going to risk more scarring just for a few extra days?" 

Christian, for his part, glared at him but didn't say anything. It wasn't like Quentin was wrong. 

"Well, I've gotta say, I never would have pegged you as the type. I respect that," Quentin complimented, looking almost impressed with his resolve. He leaned in, taking stock of his injuries. "I'll do what I can to help extend your stay," He said to him. 

Christian wasn't sure if that was some sort of threat or not, but he'd never liked Quentin and that certainly hadn't changed after he'd essentially taken over his life and replaced him. 

Liz could see Christian wasn't up to all of this. "Quentin, I think you need to let Christian rest now," Liz insisted to him. Quentin looked almost disappointed that he couldn't stay and fully inspect the extent of the damage done to him, but he relented. 

"I'll check in tomorrow then," He told them before going to see what Sean was up to with the other patient. 

"Thanks Lizzie," Christian said to her. He didn't know how much more of Quentin he could stomach after the day he'd already had. He wanted to knock the smug look off of his face from the moment he'd walked in the door. 

"Anytime. He's an ass," Liz said to him. She had found in the recent months that she wasn't particularly fond of Quentin either. None of them were, but they seemed to be stuck with him all the same. "Have you eaten anything yet? Are you hungry?" She asked him. "I can go out and get you anything you want," She offered. She felt like it was the least she could do to make him comfortable.

"Could we order some chinese food?" He asked her hopefully. It felt like forever since he'd eaten anything with much flavor. 

"You got it. I'll order your favorites. You're sure you'll be okay to eat with your injuries?" Liz asked him just to be certain. 

"I'll eat through the pain, but Sean's got me on enough meds that it'll be okay so long as I'm careful," Christian told her. Truth be told, in the moment, he really didn't care. He just wanted a little bit of normalcy. 

"Alright. I'll order it and be right back," She promised him.

"I'll be here. Not like I can go anywhere else," Christian told her and she smiled sadly at him. 

Liz walked out of the room to make the call. She ordered enough food to feed a small army, figuring it might be best to get on the good side of the guards stationed there so that maybe they might be okay with cutting Christian a little slack. When she returned to his room, she found him sound asleep. She didn't want to wake him, instead opting to sit by her friend's bedside. She knew he had to need the rest after everything he'd been through more than anything else. She'd put away some of the food when it got there for him and she'd be there waiting when he woke up. It was the least she could do.


	10. Chapter 10

"Sean, I need to see," Christian said to him as soon as his friend entered the room. He'd slept pretty soundly throughout the night and when he'd woke, Liz was gone and sunlight was streaming through the windows. He'd had a bit of time to himself to think about his situation and how he wanted to move forward. He knew the first thing he needed to do was to assess the damage himself.

"Good morning to you too," Sean said as he walked over to him. He looked tired - like he'd had a much longer night than Christian had. "How'd you sleep?"

"Best sleep I've had in over a year and a half," Christian admitted to him honestly. He felt safe and at home at the practice. He always had. With the guards surrounding his room, he hadn't had to worry about anyone coming after him and the bed was so comfortable. Really, it should have been. He'd been the one to pick out the mattresses and he'd chosen the sheets as well. He only chose the best for their practice.

"That's good," Sean said to him, glad to hear at least one of them had gotten some sleep. "How are you feeling this morning? Any pain?" He asked.

"Sean," Christian insisted, grabbing his hand with his one that wasn't handcuffed to the bed rail. "Please, I need to see what we're working with," He insisted to him.

Sean sighed. "I don't know if that's a good idea," He said to him, but he saw the pleading way he was looking at him. "I know you, Christian." He knew it would destroy him to see himself like that. 

"Yeah, you know me. You know me well enough to think I could have carved you," Christian said to him. Despite their reconciliation, Christian hadn't forgotten that his friend had doubted him. 

"Christian, c'mon. I--"

"No, no. I get it," Christian said to him. "Is that why you didn't tell me about selling the practice?" He asked him. 

Sean looked a little defeated. "Who told you?" 

"I had to find out from Quentin. _Quentin_ , Sean. I felt like an asshole having no idea what he was talking about. We built this place from the ground up. I know I sold my shares to Quentin out of necessity, but I would have at least liked to have found out from you if you were selling out," Christian said to him. 

"What do you want me to say?" Sean asked him. "The Landaus came to us with an offer. The business wasn't bouncing back even after we changed the name and your appeal wasn't going to pay for itself," Sean snapped at him and Christian didn't know what to say. 

"You sold the practice to pay for my legal fees?" He finally asked him. 

"Why the hell else would I have sold it?" Sean asked him. "I told you, we're going to get you out of there," He said to him. "Besides, I still own part of the business, but I don't have to worry about the _business_ part of it anymore," He admitted. "I still own more shares than Quentin. Look, I would have told you, but I figured you already had enough to deal with. I thought I would tell you once we got you home and cleared your name." 

Christian was quiet for a few moments. He knew deep down that Sean wouldn't have sold the business under any other circumstance. Really, how could he fault him for trying to help him? "Thank you," He finally said to him. "Is there anything else I need to know about?" He asked him. 

"Julia and Gina--"

"De La Whatever? Yeah, Quentin mentioned that too. I still don't understand how that happened," He admitted. 

"To be honest, neither do I, but they've really made it work. They've got some deal with Joan Rivers for this facial cream they invented," Sean told him. 

"No shit?" Christian asked, surprised at that.

"They're doing pretty well for themselves," He said. "When was the last time you've eaten? If it's been long enough, we can get you in for surgery this morning before Merrill comes in this afternoon," He mentioned. 

"You're bringing in Merrill?" Christian looked a little panicked at that. 

"Yeah, you asked me to do his surgery, remember?" He asked him. 

"That was before, Sean. Do you really think it's a good idea to have Merrill here when he works for Gallardo? What if this is part of their plan?" 

"What plan?"

"I don't know, but Gallardo kept saying how he needed us both," Christian told Sean quietly. He still felt like there was more to this than just getting the two of them out of the prison. He just hadn't figured out why Gallardo needed him too. 

"Look, would you rather I cancel Merrill's surgery?" Sean offered. He knew that wasn't really an option, but he thought he'd present it to him anyway. 

"No..." He said softly. He knew he had to that they had to uphold their end of the deal with Merrill. "Do his surgery as scheduled," He said to him. 

"You never answered my other question," Sean mentioned to him. 

"I haven't eaten since lunch yesterday," Christian admitted. He'd fallen asleep before the chinese food had gotten there and he'd slept through the night.

"Good, then we can get you prepped and ready for surgery," Sean said to him, but Christian reached out to stop him again. 

"Like I said before, I need to see how bad it is," He told his friend. 

Sean was still reluctant, but he knew how stubborn his best friend could be. "I'll get you a mirror," Sean said to him, but he still didn't agree that it was a good idea. He went over and pulled a hand held mirror from a drawer and walked it over to his bedside. "I still don't think you should do this. You've not been into surgery yet. You've got bruising and swelling that will go down," He listed off. 

"I know, Sean. Just because they pulled my license, it doesn't mean I forgot how to practice medicine," He said to him dryly. 

"I just want you to keep all of that in mind," Sean said to him, handing him the mirror. 

Christian was nervous, but he knew he had to know what had been done to him. He wanted to be realistic with his expectations as to what Sean could do to fix things and he wouldn't know until he saw the damage with his own eyes. He lifted the mirror and focused on his reflection. He could hardly recognize the man staring back at him. 

Just as Sean had said, there was a lot of bruising and swelling that would inevitably go down without incident. His nose was so crooked he worried it wouldn't be the same even with rhinoplasty. His fractured cheekbone would need to be reset and he hoped that it wasn't bad enough to require the insertion of titanium plates and screws. The two harsh gashes along his cheeks were the worst of it. He turned his head from side to side, carefully eying the wounds. The doctor at the prison's stitches were crude at best - going more for function rather than form. The scarring would be horrific without any intervention. He had always prided himself on his appearance - boasting he'd never even had so much as a pimple during his teenage years. Now he could barely register that the person reflected back at him was himself. 

"Am I really this ugly?" He asked softly, echoing what Kimber had asked him on their very first date.

"Christian, you'll be okay. You'll be better than okay," Sean promised him. "Look at me," He insisted, not wanting him to focus on his reflection any longer. When Christian finally met his gaze, Sean put his hands over his. "I'm going to fix this," He told him. "Let me take you into surgery right now to fix this." 

Christian hesitated. Even after seeing himself, he still wasn't sure about how speedy he wanted his recovery to be. "No, Sean. Not today," He told him. 

"We can't put this off," Sean insisted. "You and I both know that. With these injuries--"

"Does it matter?" Christian asked him. "The sooner you fix me, the sooner I go back to prison so that some asshole can just re-break my nose and do god knows what else," He told him. 

"What are you saying? That you don't want the surgery?" Sean asked him, hardly able to believe what he was hearing. 

"I don't know. I don't know what I'm saying," He said to him with a sigh. "I'm just so fed up, Sean. I'm so goddamn fed up with all of this. I just want my life back. It feels like I've been trapped in a nightmare for the past year and a half and it's just getting worse. I just wanna wake up from this," He said to his friend desperately. 

Sean put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "We're going to make this right, but we've got to start somewhere," He told him. "Let me do the surgery. It's the first step," He encouraged. 

Christian still looked scared. "They'll send me back. I can't go back," He said softly. 

"We'll figure it out. We'll have time while you heal," He promised him. If he had to lie or embellish about his condition to the prison, he would as much as he could to keep him out. He just didn't want him to have to live scarred for life. "Trust me," He urged him. 

Christian knew if there was one person in his life he could trust, it was Sean. He lifted the mirror again to take another look at himself. It still didn't feel real. He knew what he was supposed to look like and this wasn't that. "Fix me," He finally agreed and Sean gently took the mirror from him. 

"We'll get you prepped and ready to go. I've already got Liz and Quentin on standby. I'll get Linda in here to help prep you," He said. The whole team would do their best to stitch the fractured pieces of him back together again.


	11. Chapter 11

Soon enough, Christian found himself lying on the table in the familiar operating room of the practice. The guards were still stationed outside, not allowed into the room because of the sterile environment needed, but obviously Christian wasn't the inmate any of them needed to be worried about. He was still incredibly nervous to have his surgery, not only because the sooner he had it the sooner he'd be sent back to prison, but he also worried that Sean might not be able to fix all the damage done to him. If he was going to do this, he wanted to be perfect again, but he'd known from seeing the damage first-hand what a tall order that really was. 

Liz was standing over him with Linda not far away as Sean and Quentin entered the operating suite after scrubbing up and then gloving up. They approached the table and Christian looked up at his former colleague and friend.

"Are you ready?" Sean asked him. He knew that Christian had been having his doubts about the surgery and he wanted to check with him one last time before continuing.

Christian tried to put on a confident facade, not wanting to show just how scared he was that this wouldn't work. "Make me beautiful, buddyboy," He said to Sean, who smiled a little behind his surgical mask despite the situation. 

"We'll do our best," Sean promised him. He gave a little nod to Liz to start the anesthetic. 

"Count backwards from ten for me," Liz said to Christian as she began to administer the drugs. Soon enough, he was out and Liz turned on the music so that they could get started. 

Sean and Quentin got to work first on his nose. It wasn't the first rhinoplasty Sean had performed on Christian, but the last time, he'd been conscious, guiding him through the process to get him over his tremors in his hands. Now, staring down at his friend, he couldn't help but selfishly think he wanted him awake now. He hated doing surgeries without him and working with Quentin just wasn't the same. He needed his partner back. He needed his best friend. 

Sean worked to get Christian's nose just right as it had been before and he wasn't going to accept anything other than perfection. He deserved that much. Once he was satisfied with his work there, the pair moved on to working on Christian's fractured cheekbone. The x-rays had shown that they likely wouldn't need to insert any titanium plates to keep his cheekbone in place, which was great news in terms of how it would heal. Sean made a small incision in his hair near his temple in order to gain access to shift the bone back into place. Thankfully, that had gone smoothly and was pretty routine in terms of zygomatic fractures. Sean didn't think he'd have any problems with it and he stitched up the inch incision. Once Christian grew his hair out again back to it's usual length, that scar wouldn't be visible at all.

The cuts on his cheeks were the last thing they had to work on and Sean had been dreading those the most. He knew that the wounds weren't like those inflicted by the real Carver. The real Carver's work was consistent and precise and he was getting used to cleaning up the messes he made. The wounds Gallardo had inflicted were messier, more amateur. The haste at which they'd been inflicted was evident, lacking the precision and finesse that the real Carver used.

Sean and Quentin got to work, reopening the wounds and pulling them back to fix the damage within. 

"Do we know what was used on him?" Quentin asked, inspecting the damage as they worked. "These cuts aren't very clean. It's almost as if they're partially serrated," He commented. 

"He never said. I don't know if he knew and it's not like we can ask," Sean said, knowing if the guards overheard that it was Gallardo that had hurt him, Christian would be in for an even rougher time when he was returned to prison. 

"It could have been some sort of butter knife that was sharpened or maybe a plastic one from the cafeteria," Linda chimed in and they both gave her a glance. "What? They make those shivs out of everything. I saw a prison documentary once." 

Quentin shook his head and went back to focusing on the task at hand. "He could have done it to himself,” He suggested and if looks could kill, the one Sean gave him would have killed Quentin on the spot.

“Christian would never,” He snapped at him. 

“Wouldn't he? You had to strong-arm him into doing this surgery at all, didn't you? It makes sense. A desperate man looking for a little reprieve from prison? These wounds left jagged edges. Instead of something serrated, it could have just been that his hand was shaking,” Quentin suggested.

“You don't know what the hell you're talking about. Christian didn't do any of this to himself,” Sean told him. He was pissed that Quentin would even suggest such a thing. Still, it made him think back to Christian's first rhinoplasty that he tried to perform on himself in his bathroom. He'd told Sean he'd been so understandably nervous that he couldn't keep his hands steady. Maybe there was a hint of truth to Quentin's words? 

“Regardless, we're going to have to exercise a wider margin of tissue here to get rid of them," Quentin told him. 

"That's what I was afraid of," Sean said as they worked. They did their best to fix one side and then moved on to the other, wherein the wound got deeper as it moved on, suggesting that the pressure used when inflicting it hadn't been even. Sean knew that there was a good chance there would be at least some lasting damage from the wounds - the extent of which wouldn't be known until Christian was healing. The damage was done. He felt an overwhelming sense of guilt as they finished up and closed up his wounds. Despite doing all they could, he wasn't sure it would be enough.

After they wheeled Christian to recovery, Sean was right there waiting along with Liz for Christian to wake up. Quentin had made himself scarce, choosing instead to go do Merrill's anal retread so that Sean could stay with Christian. Sean and Liz were both thankful for that, figuring it would be easier for them all without him there. The work environment had been unpleasant with him for some time now and they knew Christian would certainly be more at ease with only the two of them there.

Christian groaned a little as he woke up. They had him on painkillers, but he was still in some pain, which was to be expected. He opened his eyes, blinking against the bright lights. "How'd it go?" He asked, being mindful of his injuries as he spoke.

Of course that would be the first thing he wanted to know. In the time between closing him up and him waking up, Sean had contemplated how to tell him the extent of the damage. He knew he couldn't bulllshit Christian. He'd see right through it. 

“Your nose should be back to normal when it heals,” Sean told him, figuring he'd start with the best news first. “The zygomatic break wasn't as bad as we thought either. No plates needed. It should heal just fine.”

Christian knew what he wasn't saying spoke volumes. “The cuts were worse than we thought?” He could always read Sean like a book, especially when he looked so openly pained.

“Whatever was used on you was partially serrated - either that or his hand was just that unsteady,” Sean told him, carefully broaching the subject. 

“I don't know what it was,” Christian admitted. “He beat the hell out of me before he did it to me and it all happened so fast.” Truth be told, it had been pretty quick, but the whole ordeal felt like an eternity. 

“We had to exercise a wider margin of tissue to fix the damage. I'm not going to lie to you, Christian. It was bad. Quentin and I did the best we could, but we'll just have to wait and see how you heal.” 

Christian was fluent enough in 'Sean-speak’ to know that meant he was probably screwed. “You couldn't fix it?” 

“We did as much as we could. I'm confident saying that given there's no infection or complications that your left side should heal like nothing ever happened,” Sean told him. “There might be more nerve damage and scarring on the right. It had to be the angle and the amount of pressure. We've minimized it the best we could. Like I said before, time will tell.”

“That isn't good enough, Sean,” Christian insisted. 

“Christian, I was there,” Liz told him gently. “Sean and Quentin did everything they could possibly do to help you,” She assured. “When it heals, it might not be as bad--”

“And what if it is? I'm just supposed to live like this? I'm supposed to look in the mirror everyday and see this?” Christian was getting worked up again.

“I don't know what you want from me,” Sean told him. “I wasn't the one that cut your face! I wasn't the one that did this to you.” 

“No, you were just the one that abandoned me. Both of you. And now that I need you, you can't even do that right,” He snapped at them. “Just go,” He told them coldly. It was easier to be angry with them than it was to really deal with everything that had happened to him. There was still so much pent up resentment within him towards them for how they'd simply given up on him. 

“Christian, please,” Sean said to him and he could already see him tearing up. 

“I just can't, Sean. I can't do this. The surgery was supposed to help. If I'm still going to have damage anyway, we should have waited. I should have waited a few more days,” Christian told him, finally getting to the root of some of his frustration. Tears slipped down his cheeks, stinging the freshly stitched wounds. 

“We won't let them take you back before you're ready,” Liz promised him.

He looked over at her sadly. “I’m never going to be ready, Lizzie. Neither of you know. You don't understand. You couldn't understand.” His hope of at least being completely healed had been snatched away just as so many things had been over the past year and a half. It was all too much for him. He was breaking down again right in front of them, just as he had with Liz the night before.

Sean had no idea how to comfort him. The only other time he'd seen Christian this upset was when he'd told him about the abuse he'd endured as a child. They'd sat in that church and Sean had pulled his friend close, allowing him to cry on his shoulder. Before Sean could even move now, Liz had climbed on the side of the bed with him and held him - guards be damned. It was obvious that the physical scars weren't the only ones Christian was dealing with and Sean feared they ran much more than skin deep.


	12. Chapter 12

"Hey Asshole." 

Christian was surprised to see Gina standing in the doorway of his room and he was even more surprised when he found himself happy to see her. It had been a day after his surgery and he was handling the situation a little bit better than he initially had. After his breakdown the day before in front of Sean and Liz, he had steeled himself against the notion that he wasn't going to heal completely. He knew he'd be doing himself no favors by deluding himself otherwise or continuing to place the blame on Sean or Liz. They had been right when they'd said Sean had done his best. Now only time would tell how he'd heal. He'd spoken again with both of them that morning before they headed into Escobar's surgery. With nothing else to do and no one else to talk to, he'd decided to take advantage of the security the practice afforded him and take a nap. When he woke, it was late afternoon and he had been alone again, save for the guards outside, that was until Gina showed up. 

"It's nice to see you too, Gina," He greeted her as she walked in. She had a tray in her hands and she walked it over and put it on the adjustable bedside table. "You brought me food?" He asked, a little surprised. 

"Chicken soup. Thought I was gonna have to smuggle it in. You know they got this place locked down like freakin' Fort Knox because of you," She mentioned as she adjusted the tray table to the right height and rolled it over in front of him and then stood there expectantly. "Well? Aren't you gonna try it?" She asked him. 

Christian really shouldn't have expected anything less. It was so quintessentially Gina to just walk in like she owned the place and try to take over. "I'm still laying down and I can't exactly reach the spoon," Christian said to her, showing that his dominant hand was cuffed again at the wrist to the bed. 

"Jesus, seriously?" She asked him before turning to the guards stationed outside. "Seriously!?" She called out to them. "How the hell's he supposed to eat like this, huh?"

"Gina," Christian hissed at her. The last thing he wanted was for her to make things worse by pissing off the guards. "It's fine. I'll use my other hand. Just stop," He urged her. 

"No. This is bullshit," She told him before turning out to the guards again. "This is bullshit!" She shouted at them. She looked back to him. 

"Gina," He snapped again. "Please?" 

Gina saw how desperately he was looking at her. "Okay, but this is still bullshit," She finally relented. She went over and adjusted his bed herself, getting him at least sitting upright and then she fluffed his pillow behind him. "You know, I probably got a hairpin in my purse. I could pick the lock," She offered to him as she glanced down at the handcuffs. 

"Have you absolutely lost your mind? There are guards out there with guns," He reminded her and she just rolled her eyes. 

"Please. They're morons. They got you locked up here like you're some sort of criminal meanwhile the real Carver's still out there making people look like the Joker," She told him. 

"You know I'm not the Carver?" Christian had been so sure everyone aside from Kimber had given up on him and thought him guilty that it never even occurred to him that maybe that wasn't the case.

Gina looked at him like he was stupid. "Of course you're not the Carver. You're an asshole, that's for sure, but you wouldn't hurt people... least not like that," She told him, absolutely sure of that. 

"Why didn't you ever call or write or visit?" Christian asked her. 

"You had Kimber for all that, right? I got the feeling she didn't really want me around," She told him with a little shrug. "Besides, as if you'd really want to hear from me anyway," She said to him. 

"It might have been nice, actually," He admitted to her. 

"Jesus, you must be really desperate then, huh? Well, I'll keep that in mind," She told him with a little smirk. She handed him the spoon to his non-dominant hand and he was able to take a spoonful of the soup. 

"This is really good. Did you make this?" He asked her, impressed. 

"Hell yeah, I made it," Gina assured him. "You know I can cook." She made herself comfortable in the chair next to his bed as he ate.

Truth be told, Christian didn't mind Gina's company all that much, especially these days. He was thankful that she hadn't mentioned his injuries and that she hadn't looked at him with disgust or even worse - pity. It was just a normal visit with Gina. As he ate, he listened as she told him about opening De La Mer with Julia and about their deal with Joan Rivers and how exactly that idea for the skin cream had came about. She talked to him about her HIV - how her T-Cell count was high and her viral load was down. He was pretty content to let Gina do all of the talking. 

Christian had just finished his soup when the guard outside of his room suddenly left his post and ran down the hall. 

"What the hell's that all about?" Gina asked, standing up from her chair to go towards the door. There was a lot of commotion and some screaming echoing down the hall. 

Christian tensed and reached out to stop her. "Gina, don't," He urged, seeing that she was going to go to the door to peek out. 

"You're not even a little curious?" She asked him. 

"I think I already know," Christian admitted. Escobar's surgery was happening down the hall. God only knew what Gallardo and Merrill had cooked up, but he hoped that Sean and Liz were alright. 

"Y'know, this would be the perfect time for you to try to escape if you wanted," Gina suggested and Christian wasn't sure if she was joking or not. "The guards are gone. I could jimmy the lock on your handcuffs and we could get you the hell outta here," She offered. 

"As truly tempting as that sounds, I don't think we'd get far," Christian told her dubiously. "I'm not exactly inconspicuous with these lacerations," He said, indicating his face. 

"So we'll get you a mask or something. Say you're sick until you heal," She suggested with a shrug, as though she had it all figured out. 

"And where would we go?" Christian asked her, figuring he'd indulge the fantasy for a few moments. It was better than focusing on the commotion down the hall. 

"I don't know. Mexico maybe," Gina mused. "Or maybe Brazil. Don't they have a lot of plastic surgeons in Brazil? You could start your own practice and I could run it," She told him. 

Christian smiled a little at that, but he was mindful of his stitches. "Oh yeah?" 

"Yeah... and everyday after you were finished stuffing fake tits, we'd end up on some Brazilian beach and--"

Gina paused in the middle of her tale of their fantasy life as the noise from down the hall was growing louder and closer. Christian glanced out and saw Merrill, clad in scrubs, being hauled away by most of the guards who were literally carrying him out, though one stayed behind, taking up his post once more outside of Christian's room. 

"Looks like we lost our chance," Gina told him, taking note of the guard. 

"Yeah, looks like," Christian agreed, but his mind was elsewhere. What had Merrill done? Had the idiot really done something on Gallardo's command to get himself arrested so soon after being released? Or had he gone rogue and killed the bastard somehow? Christian hated that a part of him desperately hoped it was the latter. He hated that the fantasy of a world where Escobar Gallardo was finally dead sounded far more appealing than the fantasy of living it up in another country. He hated the type of man he was becoming to even think that way. He felt the familiar unease settle in and he knew he wouldn't feel any better until he was able to talk to Sean about what had happened. 

“Hey, you okay?” Gina asked him, looking at him with concern.

It took Christian a moment to realize she was talking to him. “Hmm? Yeah. I'm fine,” He assured her but it wasn't convincing, not even to himself. 

“You don't look fine. You look like shit. Like you seen a ghost or something. You know that guy they were hauling outta here?”

Christian nodded. “Yeah. I knew him,” He admitted.

“Do you need me to stay with you till someone else gets here? I was gonna head back to the spa soon, but if you're not okay…” Gina trailed off.

“No, I'm good. Thank you, Gina. For everything,” He said to her sincerely. It had been a nice visit while it had lasted and he was glad to see Gina finally getting her act together. 

“Yeah, well, I'll see you again before you get outta here,” Gina promised him as she gathered her purse and jacket. She went over to him and paused before deciding on placing a kiss on his forehead, not wanting to irritate his injuries anywhere else on his face. “Don't go escaping to Brazil without me, Asshole,” She told him softly with a small smile before she left, leaving him alone once again.


	13. Chapter 13

"What the hell did Merrill do?" Christian asked as Sean was entering his room. It was later that evening and Escobar's surgery was long completed. He was relieved to see that his friend looked completely unscathed from whatever the incident had occurred in the OR.

Sean looked and felt exhausted. "You heard all that all the way in here?" Sean asked him. 

"Heard it? Gina and I saw him being dragged away by all of the guards," Christian told him. "What in the hell was happening in there?" 

"He tried to bring Escobar out from under the anesthetic and took a scalpel and was going to kill him," Sean admitted to him. 

" _Tried_? As in he didn't?" Christian asked and he couldn't help but allow the disappointment to slip into his voice.

"You _wanted_ him to kill Escobar?" Sean asked him, hardly able to believe what he was hearing. 

"Don't give me that look, Sean," Christian warned. "It's not like I was in on it, but I certainly wouldn't weep at his funeral," He told him coldly. After everything Gallardo had put him through, he felt like he could hardly be blamed for feeling that way. "So if all of this happened, then who stopped him? The guards?" He presumed, but Sean shook his head. 

"I saw my chance and I tackled him," Sean admitted. 

" _You_? Sean, you should have just let Merrill kill him," Christian told him seriously. "It would have solved at least one of my problems." 

"You don't mean that. You can't mean that," Sean said to him. 

"Try me. After the living hell he's put me through? What he's _still_ putting me through?" He asked him, motioning to his face with his free hand. He didn't have an ounce of empathy left to give for Escobar Gallardo. 

Sean sighed. "I'm sorry," He apologized to him. He knew that Christian had been through a lot, but Sean couldn't live with it on his conscience if he had stood by and done nothing. He had sworn an oath to do no harm as a doctor and he was going to stick to that - even if his patient was a monster like Gallardo.

Christian shook his head, trying to calm down and think about it rationally. "You made a judgment call in the heat of the moment. Who knows? If he ended up dead, I might have ended up in worse shape," He reasoned, knowing that Gallardo was connected and had a network of people both inside and outside the prison working for him. Christian might have been saddled with the blame had something gone wrong.

"Speaking of, I wanted to get a look at how you're healing before I head out for the night," Sean said to him.

"You're not sticking around tonight?" Christian asked him and he couldn't help but let the disappointment slip into his voice again. He had missed his friend and he finally felt ready enough to catch up with him. 

"No, I've got to go check up on Conor," Sean admitted to him absentmindedly. 

"Another patient?" Christian assumed, having no idea who he was talking about. "That shouldn't take all night. Just go check on him now. I'll wait," He said to him, thinking that wouldn't be a big deal. 

Sean paled a little at the realization. "I never told you," He said and that pained look crossed his face. 

"Told me _what_? Who the hell is Conor?" Christian asked him. 

"He's my son," Sean admitted to him. 

"You have another kid?" Christian asked him, absolutely floored by the admission. "Whose is it? When did this happen?" 

"He's mine and Julia's," Sean admitted to him. "He's only a few months old. He has ectrodactyly - both hands," Sean explained to him. "We've already operated on one a few weeks ago. I'm sorry I never told you. It just never seemed like the right time," He apologized, feeling guilty for never bringing it up. 

"You should have told me. I had no idea you were dealing with that and all my bullshit too," Christian told him, still shocked that his best friend had another kid he didn't know about. "So are you and Julia back together or...?"

"We've been trying, but things are rough," Sean admitted, putting it lightly. He was fairly certain that Julia was screwing the nanny, but he didn't have any proof of her infidelity.

"Which is why you need to go. Got it," Christian said with a nod. 

"I really am sorry," He apologized. "Look, I'll stop by later tonight to check on you," He offered. 

"I'll be fine," Christian promised him. "So long as I'm here with the guards outside, I feel pretty safe," He admitted. He could handle incarceration so long as it meant he was locked up at their practice and not in a prison cell. It wasn't ideal, but it was the closest thing to feeling at home that he had now. 

"Are you sure?" Sean asked him. "Have you had dinner yet? I can make sure you have something before I go," He offered, feeling like that was the least he could do. 

"I'm good, Sean," He promised him. 

“I promise tomorrow I'll be here and we'll have dinner together,” Sean told him. “Just you and me.”

“And all of the armed guards outside. You can't forget about them.” Christian certainly couldn't. 

“We'll order them some takeout too,” He said. Sean was grateful that Christian was so understanding that he needed to go. Sean checked Christian's wounds and made sure he had everything he needed before he went.

The rest of the night had been uneventful and Christian passed the time reading some of the medical journals and magazines that Sean had left by his bedside sometime earlier. He was startled out of his relaxing reverie by the distinct sound of gunshots and Christian started to panic. It had all happened so fast that he barely had time to react when the guards outside his door dropped like flies, leaving a smear of blood splatter on the windows and walls behind them. It was then Escobar Gallardo entered his room holding a gun. 

Christian struggled against the handcuffs keeping his arm chained to the railing of the bed. The living nightmare worsened when he saw who was following behind Escobar - Silvo Perez's brother Alejandro, clad in scrubs with a gun in his hand with it pointed straight at Christian. 

“You look nervous, Dr. Troy,” Escobar said to him with an easy smile. He had removed the bandages from his own face, showing off his newly restored visage. He certainly looked like Escobar Gallardo again, albeit with skin grafts and stitches snaking all over his face. “Don't worry. We've already taken care of all the guards.” 

"And now we're going to take care of you too for what you did to my brother Silvio," Alejandro insisted, still pointing his gun straight at him. 

Christian was panicking. He knew he was trapped. He couldn't even make a run for it if he wanted to with his arm handcuffed to the bed. "I didn't do anything to your brother. You were the one that killed Silvio, not me," Christian said to him, trying to at least appear somewhat calm in the face of certain death.

"He deserved a proper funeral," Alejandro snapped and Christian winced as he neared closer with the gun, putting it right in his face. He was certain he was going to die, but it was at least a little comforting that he wasn't going to be murdered in some dank prison cell like he'd been afraid of for months, but rather the business he had helped build.

"I'm sorry," Christian apologized to him in what was surely a futile effort to save his own life. "We didn't... We didn't know what to do." Tears were stinging his eyes as he realized this was it. 

"You fed him to alligators! You disrespected his body!" Alejandro said, still furious.

"Put the gun down, Alejandro," Escobar ordered him and Christian honestly hadn't expected that. "You know he only disrespected Silvio's body after you killed him. Besides, I've already done enough to this one. Look at him," He gestured to Christian's face. "You remember what he looked like before, no? I overheard one of the doctors talking. This is as good as he's going to get. For a guy like him, that's worse than a bullet to the head," He reasoned and Alejandro slowly lowered the gun. 

"Then we pay a visit to the other one," Alejandro insisted, wanting to at least take it out on Sean if not Christian. 

"We will. Get the car," He instructed him. With a final angry glance to Christian, Alejandro thankfully left the room and Christian let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding in. His heart was still practically beating out of his chest. Once Alejandro was surely out of earshot, Escobar began to speak. 

"We're even now, Dr. Troy," He told him. "Don't worry about Alejandro. He's become more of a liability than an asset," He mentioned. "Sean will be fine. He fixed my face." He looked Christian over. "If you want, I can unlock you before I go," He offered him, gesturing towards the cuffs. He thought the offer was pretty generous. 

"No," Christian was quick to say. He knew if he was ever to clear his name, he wouldn't be able to avoid charges for Escobar and Alejandro's mass murder of the guards if he was uncuffed. 

"Fair enough. I don't think you'd last long on the run anyway," Escobar commented and honestly the thought of running hadn't even occurred to Christian at all. "I'm sure someone will find you soon," He told him before turning to leave. 

Once Christian was alone again, the reality of the situation really sunk in for him. The guards were all dead and somehow he'd survived. He was still shaking as the adrenaline coursed through him. Despite Escobar's promise, he was still worried about Sean. There was no way he could reach any sort of phone to call for help or to call to warn Sean. All he could do was hope that Escobar Gallardo was a man of his word when he said they wouldn't hurt him.


	14. Chapter 14

"I want you to tell me how this happened, Christian," Detective Kit McGraw asked him for what seemed like the thousandth time. He'd already explained the previous night's events over and over to various detectives, but it apparently wasn't enough to satisfy the woman that had wormed her way into his life and had helped put him behind bars. 

After Escobar and Alejandro had killed the guards at the practice and escaped, they had gone to Sean's. Christian had found out from Sean that Escobar had dispatched of Alejandro in Sean's living room - taking out the only witness to what they'd done to Silvio's body in the Everglades. Escobar had assured him they were now even and had gone on his way. After he'd checked up on his family and called the police, Sean had rushed back to the practice to look after Christian. Now, nearly twelve hours later, the pair were still being questioned by police. 

"I've already given statements to all of the other officers and detectives," Christian reminded her. 

"And yet you refuse to cooperate with me," Kit said, crossing her arms as she leaned against the wall. 

"Oh, I wonder why, sweetheart," Christian said sarcastically. He just knew she had to have something to do with setting him up. He could tell by the smug look on her face that she was loving every moment of seeing him cuffed and injured. 

"I would caution you, _inmate_ , that it would be wise of you to cooperate. It is curious how all the other people in the office at the time were murdered and yet you had nary a new scratch upon you," Kit observed. 

"All of the other people were guards," He reminded. 

"But you were a witness - a loose end. Someone that could identify who helped him and confirm what he did." 

"I was handcuffed to this bed," He emphasized, moving his wrist a little to show her the limited range of motion that the cuff allowed. "I didn't see anything. I heard gunshots. I saw blood splatter against the window," Christian insisted, just as he had to the other officers.

"And you didn't see who aided in Escobar Gallardo's escape? He never spoke to you?" Kit asked him.

"I assume it was the corpse you found in Sean's living room," Christian told her bluntly. He knew he would be doing himself no favors by ratting Escobar out or by identifying Alejandro. 

As if on cue, Sean entered Christian's room. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but I need to check how Christian's healing," He said. He knew that putting Christian and Kit in a room together for too long was a surefire way to push every button Christian had. He didn't want his friend to say or do something that he'd regret later. 

"Can this wait?" Kit asked him with a frown. 

"This is still a business and Christian is still my patient," He informed her as he put on a fresh pair of gloves. "It's already been longer than I would have liked. I need to change his bandages and apply some ointment to help aid with the healing," He explained. 

Kit didn't look happy about it, but she relented. "Fine," She said. "I'm certain you won't mind if I watch."

Christian rolled his eyes. "You think I'm faking, sweetheart?" 

"I think you'd do whatever you could in order to get out of prison," Kit told him bluntly. "And I believe that Sean and your other colleagues would do whatever they could now to aid in your evasion of serving your sentence."

"I'm innocent," He told her. "And I've got my lawyer working to prove just that." 

Kit smiled like a cheshire cat. "I've been doing this for a long time, Christian. And I can tell you that even the most guilty criminals will continue to insist upon their innocence if they think it might benefit them," Kit told him as she watched Sean carefully removing some of the bandages on Christian's wounds. 

"Christian didn't hurt anyone, Kit," Sean told her as he focused on his friend's face. "He was a victim of the Carver himself and he's been through hell. If you don't stop antagonizing him, I'm going to have to ask you to leave the room. I--" Sean paused as the door to Christian's room opened and Michelle Landau walked in looking none too happy with him. 

"Sean, what is all of this? I leave for a few days and you turn the practice into a crime scene?" Michelle demanded. 

"This is your new business partner?" Christian asked Sean, looking her up and down. Christian couldn't help but notice she was gorgeous and wearing a form fitting dress that accentuated every curve. Perhaps in another life he would have tried to sleep with her, but now that was but an after thought. She seemed a little young to have bought into the business, but he recalled the fact that she was a recent widow and the pieces clicked into place for him. 

Sean gave Christian a look before turning to Michelle. "I'm with a patient right now--"

"Oh, I _know_ who you're with," Michelle told him, crossing her arms and giving Christian a glare. She'd done her research on the practice before she and her husband had purchased it. "What I'd like to know is why you thought it was okay to bring not one but _two_ convicted murderers into my business without telling me," She demanded. 

"Christian didn't murder anyone-"

"I don't care if you _think_ he's innocent. I want him gone," Michelle insisted and Christian felt a panic attack coming on. He wasn't ready to go back. 

"Actually, I was going to suggest quite the same," Kit chimed in. She offered her hand to shake. "Detective Kit McGraw," She introduced herself to Michelle. 

Sean could see in his best friend's eyes how scared he was and he knew he had to do something. 

"I'm still Christian's doctor and he's not going anywhere," He insisted. 

"He's already had his surgeries, has he not?" Kit asked him. "I don't see any reason why he needs to stay here any longer." 

"He's still recovering and healing from those surgeries. If you put him back in prison, you'll be exposing him to the risk of infection or to the risk of someone exacerbating his injuries," Sean insisted. 

"He could be transferred to the prison infirmary," Kit stated. "Though I don't see much of a need. It's not as though he's mortally wounded. Everything he's had done was purely aesthetic." 

"So that he wouldn't be maimed for life!" Sean practically shouted at her. "You can't send him back to that prison chop shop with all of those other inmates. There'd be a greater risk of infection." 

"He is a prisoner like any other," Kit argued. "Are you prepared to take on every single case from the prison and house them here until they heal? If not, then I see no reason why Christian should receive a better standard of care than any other prisoner." 

"He's just had reconstructive surgery on his nose. We had to reset his cheekbone and he's got two huge wounds on his face that are still healing. If someone hits him--"

"Then perhaps we should consider putting him in protective custody instead," Kit suggested.

"Solitary? You want to send me to solitary?" Christian asked wide eyed. Kit's latest suggestion put him into even more of a panic than before. He'd heard horror stories about solitary and as awful as it was being in with the general population, he knew solitary would be a different hell entirely. What very little freedom he had in prison would be taken from him in solitary confinement. Not only that, but if the other inmates caught wind of his protective custody, they might get the wrong idea and make him even more of a target when he eventually re-entered the general population.

"I thought you'd be pleased. It seems like the perfect solution to your problem. No other inmate will be able to harm your precious face again," Kit said smugly.

"Until they put me back in gen pop and someone tries to kill me because they think I'm a snitch or getting special treatment," Christian insisted.

"Isn't that exactly what you've done here? Isn't that exactly what you're asking for?" Kit asked. 

"I just want to be able to heal before you throw me back to the wolves," Christian told her. 

"Of which you are one," Kit reminded him. "You've maimed and raped and killed and yet you still think yourself better than the other inmates. 25 to life was too good for you, Christian. You should be thankful that you're not on death row where you belong awaiting a lethal injection," She told him. 

"You need to go," Sean said to her, his frustrations already threatening to bubble over. 

"Are you trying to obstruct justice, Dr. McNamara?" Kit questioned him. 

"I have yet to see any justice at all. We've both cooperated with all the legitimate questions you and every other officer have had," Sean reminded her. "Now you're just antagonizing my patient. He's been through enough already. We all have. You're more than welcome to come back when you've thought of something relevant to ask." 

Kit wasn't happy, but she could see that Sean wasn't backing down so easily. "Fine, but this isn't over. Should either of you think of any more details about the case, let us know," She said before walking out of the room to join her colleagues in the thick of the crime scene. Michelle was still in the room with them though and she was still incredibly pissed.

"He's not going to be your patient for long," Michelle insisted again once Kit had left the room. 

"I still have a stake in this business," Sean argued. 

"But not a controlling interest," Michelle was quick to remind him. "Get rid of him, Sean or I'm going to," She warned him. She gave Christian another glare before she left the room, leaving the two alone. 

"I can't go back this soon, Sean," Christian told him desperately. He didn't want to go back at all, but he knew he had no choice. He thought about it a moment. "Tell them I need another surgery," He insisted quietly. 

"What?" Sean was taken aback by his friend's request. 

"Tell them I need another rhinoplasty or that you've reassessed my condition and have to put in the plate in my cheekbone after all," He suggested to him. 

"Have you gone insane?" Sean hissed at his friend. "You know anything I tell them we actually have to do--"

"I know," Christian told him, sounding resigned to it already.

"I'm not going to do any unnecessary procedures on you," Sean told him. "Jesus, would you _listen_ to yourself?" 

"I _am_ listening, Sean. I'm listening to your new tits and ass of a boss ready to kick me out of here. I'm listening to Kit threatening to have me put in back in prison. God only knows what they're going to do to me in there now that Gallardo's gone. Even with as much shit as he put me through, I think his guys were protecting me from everybody else. Without that protection, I don't know if I'll make it," Christian explained to his friend.

"So then maybe the protective custody she suggested might not be such a bad option," Sean suggested to him, thinking it might be the lesser of all the evils. 

"You'd think that, but I've heard it's worse. I don't even know if I'd get to go outside at all if they stuck me in solitary," Christian admitted. "The best part of my day is getting to run around the yard for a little while. Christ, how sad is that?" Christian asked, feeling a little pathetic even admitting it.

Sean could see that his best friend was struggling and he didn't need his own short temper to worsen things. "I just don't know what you expect me to do, Christian," Sean said to him softly. 

"Whatever you have to," Christian told him. "Whatever you can to keep me here. Please," He begged him. "I don't care if it means you have to cut me open again in order to do it. I trust you."

Sean looked torn about that. It was an impossible situation but he couldn't in good conscience operate on Christian again without reason. He was quiet for a few moments, trying to think of some solution. "I'm sorry," He apologized to him. "I'm not going to do anything that doesn't need to be done." 

Christian felt betrayed by him all over again. "Then I'll make sure something needs to be done," He decided, reaching up with his free hand towards the plaster cast on his nose. 

"What are you doing?" Sean asked him. 

"I'm taking off this cast and re-breaking my nose," Christian said to him. The cast wasn't even ready to come off yet for several more days and he could feel that it was still far too stuck to come off. He reached over to the water he had nearby and stuck his hand in the cup to get it wet in order to help loosen the plaster to remove the cast. 

Sean reached out to stop him and caught his hand before it reached his nose again. "I'm not going to let you mutilate yourself to buy a little more time. Chances are they wouldn't let you get another procedure anyway," He said to him. Still, he could see how dire the situation was. The last time Christian had broken his nose it had been an accident and he had demanded nothing but perfection. Now he was ready to hurt himself and to settle for whatever Sean could do to prolong his stay - aesthetics be damned. This wasn't the Christian he knew. "We'll find another way. Just give me a little time before you do anything you'll regret," He asked of him. 

Christian gave a little nod. "Just hurry," He urged his friend. He knew that once the wheels were moving to get him sent back to prison that things would move quickly and they wouldn't have much of a chance to convince the authorities to let him stay, especially with pressure from both Kit and Michelle Landau mounting.


End file.
